#it’s about getting old and watching a community you COULD have been apart of but never were really start to thrive in the mainstream

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[defnotsoju]

HER FIRST TIME

ILLIT'S MINJU × Y/N ( M READER )

Minju was one of those girls who always made you have mixed emotions about them. She was innocent, beautiful and very kind. Something that sometimes annoyed you about her, but at the same time sometimes made you happy.

In this situation, specifically, it annoyed you more. She was so sexy, lately her company had been making her wear too short skirts, which was pleasing to your eyes. You always had wet dreams with her for as long as you could remember, at least it happened to you often, even if not every time. You both went to the same high school, but after graduation you lost contact for a while. She began to pursue her dream of becoming an idol and now barely even communicates with her own parents, who by the way have always liked and shipped you both. A thought you actually liked.

Every night you went to bed thinking about her and even though you fucked other whores, you never stopped throbbing your cock while watching her first fancams of her debut song 'Magnetic' by ILLIT, which only fed your arouse and your desire to fulfill your dream of fucking her tight pussy. Oh yeah! You were sure she was tight just by the way the stripe on her pussy were clearly defined while wearing white safety shorts.

You heard from a mutual friend of both of you that she will be staying in Busan this week. This thought had excited you so much that you had spent the whole day trying to look good for your upcoming meeting, for which she doesn't even know about.

When you met, the situation didn't seem awkward. You talked about a lot of different things from the kind of school memories you two had. You talked about her idol career and that's actually how happy she is that her dream came true. Overall, hanging out with friends was nice because the old company was back together. Only now they had left you two alone outside, and you were thinking about so many things.

"I missed hanging out with you like this." She said causing you to raise your eyebrows and look at her in surprise. Did she miss you? Time with you? You looked at her confused. You wasn't actually confused, but you pretended not to understand. This made her pout.

"Say it again because I didn't hear you."

Minju folded her arms in front of her body as we walked towards her empty apartment in an affluent district of Busan.

"I told you I miss spending time with you. Are you happy now? Ya! Y/N! Why are you like that?"

You started laughing and she slapped you on the shoulder. You looked at her and instead of getting mad at her you slapped her as well, but on her butt, which made her put her hand on it and jump in surprise.

"I missed you too, Minju."

"Don't do it again! What if someone sees us and I'm in trouble? You'll live your life, but I'll have angry fans after me!"

When did this happen? Both of you were walking, and now you were in her bedroom home. The room was dark red in color, it had a very beautiful interior, and on both sides of the bedroom there were lamps whose light was warm.

You can't figure out when you sent her home and how it all happened, but you're so pleased you can't even complain. Her body lay under yours while you were on top of her. You looked with a confused look at her semi-naked body, whose curves were clearly defined. Minju had a really sexy body that you craved to fuck already. Her soft breasts bounced slightly when you entered her pussy with your erection. You watched her beautiful moaning face howling in pain but also pleasure for the reason that you had just taken her virginity. Damn it! Why was she so beautiful?

At one point she had quite started moaning loudly but also pushing you lightly with her hand which seemed to automatically make you press your pelvis against hers. This made her moan loudly and you covered her mouth with your hand.

"And you mean to tell me you haven't been fucked before? You're too hot Minju.. it's a shame your CEO hasn't fucked you or the guys in the company. Better that way. You're mine now."

Your movements were difficult because of how tight she was down there. This narrowness made you curse but in a raspy voice, and finally you leaned over her and kissed her soft lips. Her lips were so juicy and she was gagging herself in her own saliva because of the way she was constantly moaning and shaking under your body. She was so tiny. Her body was petite and when she is by your side she always boosts your man ego. Over time you roughed up your movements inside her, her warm walls hugs your cock that was throbbing inside her desperate to cum.

"Y..Y..Y/N..!! Don't stop fucking me. Damn it! I'll cum!"

"What if I don't let you?" You asked with a sly smile, stopping your movements for a moment. This startled her and she started moving her pelvis up and down on her own. She was exactly the needy slut you wanted to see. This was the light in which YOU wanted to see Minju. How she desperately rubs into you to cum and begs you, followed by a whimpering.

"Then stop moaning so loudly and be a good girl to me. Open your mouth" You ordered her, and she obeyed you. You spat in her mouth and slapped one of her medium sized tits which made her purse her lips. You didn't like this action of hers, so you allowed yourself to slap her again, but this time on her pussy. This caused Minju to arch her neck back and begin writhing her body on the soft thousand dollar mattress. You noticed that there was blood on your hand. It was her virgin blood. The sheets were in blood, her thighs, you were in her blood yourself, but that motivated you enough to keep going until you felt yourself starting to cum inside her. You filled her tight hole with your cum, but that orgasm didn't even stop you because your goal was for her to cum too.

You gripped one of her legs below the knee and spread the other wide, using your fingers on her clit, which you rubbed hard and fast as your pelvis crashed against hers. Your balls started hitting her small but shapely ass as you watched her boobs bounce with your predatory eyes.

The moment she came you stayed deep inside her, causing her to shake her body intensely, especially her legs and moan even louder, finally pulling away from her. You began slapping your cock against her reddened pussy, finally beginning to rub it between her pussy lips.

You watched with interest as your white liquid flowed from her hole, unable to hold back and lick her pussy. This made her cover her lips with her hand, but you pushed her hand away and continued to lick her greedily.

"Did you think that was the end?"

•

•

•

AO3 VERSION HERE

[inuyashaluver]

Are we getting any Ona x reader Childhood sweetheart??

mi media naranja (my better half) - ona batlle

ona batlle x reader

description: in which you and your childhood friend watch each other grow up, going through different partners, life stages and miraculously ending up in a surprising result

warnings: it’s a long one - buckle up!! catalan in bold italics, mentions of cheating and tears

a/n: hiya, lovey! i hope you don’t mind that i tweaked this into a childhood friends to lovers situation, i really hope you enjoy❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your best friend, ona, were the epitome of inseperable. your special bond was formed by years of shared laughter, inside jokes, secrets and late night conversations that stood the test of time.

you and ona knew each other better than anyone, the years of being best friends proving soulmates existed.

at first you both believed it was platonic soulmates but as the seasons and years went by, so did your dynamic, unbeknownst to either of you at the time.

it began through the subtle shift in stolen glances and unspoken words and conversations lingering in the air, something felt different for both of you.

little did you both know, the journey and progression from being best friends formed the very foundation of your relationship in the present.

—

[ 7 years old ]

it all started in school, a young ona experimentally kicking a football to a lonely you to test out the waters during lunch break.

in the beginning, you were incredibly shy, finding it hard to make friends at the time. her kindness made your heart warm and when you kicked the ball back, you both knew the other would be in your lives forever.

she came up to you and managed to get you to open up, she was pleasantly surprised to find out that you were quite chatty when you talked about something you were interested in. she loved it.

she’d listen to your words intently, each word engraving new lore about you in her mind, making an effort to remember as much about you as she could.

“one day, we’re gonna play together for spain and bring home a gold medal” ona promises, nudging your shoulder with hers as you both sat next to each other on the grass.

you laugh and nudge her back, nodding and holding your pinky up, she smiled cheekily and interlocked her own with yours, a promise you both intended to keep.

everyday at school, you and ona grew closer. your families were so happy with the fact that you’d made a friend so close, both of you at each other’s houses every other day. it just felt right for the both of you and everyone around you.

—

[ 12 years old ]

you and ona were joined at the hip, not even an exaggeration, you were never apart. you and ona had promised each other that wherever the other would go, you would follow in suit.

it was a non verbal promise but something that was just understood between the two of you.

you and ona had been scouted in your local club to join the youth barcelona team, both of you squealing and jumping around on her bed when you both discussed the situation. however, promptly scolded by ona’s mum that had you both in a fit of giggles.

because the two of you played together so often, each other’s playing styles were very much adapted into your own.

ona was a defender while you played in the midfield, the two of you always linking up to score a goal or an assist.

you both didn’t even need to look at each other to know where to pass or aim, the presence of one another being enough to score goals that had people impressed by your performances.

you and ona thrived in the barcelona team, labelled a dynamic duo by not only your coaches and teammates, but the spectators also.

—

wordless communication and care were the foundations of your friendship. the needs and requirements for the other person just feeling like common sense.

“you didn’t rub it in properly” ona laughs, pointing at the streaks on sunscreen left on the skin of your face.

“in case you didn’t notice, onita, i don’t exactly have a mirror” you grumble, attempting to rub the rest of the sunscreen but missing completely, making the brunette laugh even more.

“oh, preciosa (precious)” she teases, roughly rubbing the remnants into your skin causing you to groan and attempt to push her away.

“done” she cheeses out, giving your cheek a light pat before you shove her away jokingly. “you suck,” you stick your tongue out at her and she immediately returns the gesture, making you both give each other challenging glares before giggling with each other.

—

“my house or yours?” ona grins, passing you your water after training. “mhm, let’s go to yours” you smile back at her, she nods and you both chat as normal.

as soon as you got to ona’s, she gave you some of her clothes to change into and you immediately called your family to let them know you’re here and they already knew you’d ask to stay over so they agreed instantly.

you throw ona a thumbs up as she watches you converse on the phone and she pumps her fist in celebration, making you giggle before ending the call.

—

[ 17 years old ]

this was a difficult time for the both of you, it was when you both started exploring the dating world with other people.

ona got into a relationship first with this random girl, she was super nice at first, but when ona would spend time with you, she would get into insane arguments with her, her girlfriend claiming ona cared more about you than her.

and because it was her first girlfriend, she pulled back from you and you only really saw each other at training, and even then, the communication was limited.

you were heartbroken to say the least, losing your best friend over a girl, you decided to give ona a taste of her own medicine and began dating this girl you thought was really nice.

she treated you well, like a princess honestly, you were giddy and all round happier and ona, from a distance was happy for you.

she’d broken up with her girlfriend and she didn’t, well..couldn’t tell you since she rarely saw you. she regretted the whole relationship, it was toxic and manipulative and she wished she never ditched you for her.

but you were happy again and she would never jeopardise that for you. the only thing ona wanted for you was an endless amount of happiness, getting all the love that you deserved.

it was until you found out your girlfriend had cheated on you, coincidentally with ona’s ex that everything fell back into place.

with tears pooling in your eyes, you knocked on the door of the batlle residence with anxiety overtaking your entire body.

ona opened the door with a worried and confused expression, looking down at your kicked puppy expression that was ready to break down at any moment.

“nena? (babe)” she breathes out, a sob escapes from the back of your throat and you rush to wrap your arms around her neck, pressing your face into her collarbone as your body wracked with a heart wrenching sob.

she immediately holds you around your waist, rubbing comforting circles over the shirt you were wearing, saying nothing but just holding you close.

she tries to pull away to look at you but you shake your head and hold her tighter, she frowns at the sounds of your crying, lifting you up by your thighs and hoisting you up on her waist.

she hurriedly closes the door and rushes to her room, sitting on the edge of the bed as you cried into her arms. she whispers sweet words in your ear as you pressed into her.

you hug for a couple of minutes until you pull away, wiping your tears away with the back of your hands as you looked down at her,

“i didn’t know where else to go” you sniff, your nose red and your voice slightly congested. she frowns at you, using the pad of her finger to wipe away the tear rolling down your cheek.

“you came to the right place, this is your home too, i’ve missed you so much” she says softly, making a few more tears leave your eyes while she chokes back on her own. it felt like so much time but no time had passed as you explained the situation.

ona was pissed, making an effort the next day to give both of your now ex girlfriends a piece of her mind.

that’s when you both decided to take a break with dating, focusing on yourselves, football and each other. everything was back to normal and you were both incredibly relieved.

—

[ 18 - 21 years old ]

as the years went by, you and ona only grew closer, you noticed the shift in your dynamic. the lingering stares and touching blurring the line between platonic and romantic.

you tried to think nothing of it, ona was always incredibly affectionate and if anything she was just being friendly.

if only you knew how this girl really felt about you. in love was an understatement but she didn’t and couldn’t say anything, respecting you more than anyone in the world.

she wouldn’t want to risk losing you, her best friend, her soulmate.

it didn’t really help that you both followed each other to every club, barcelona, madrid, levante and even making the big jump to manchester united.

the best friend duo left an imprint on every club you both went to, proving to be unstoppable in every league.

you were both so in tune and synchronised, ona even managed to assist you in a hat trick at manchester united, claiming it to be one of her proudest moments.

she’d hoist you up on her waist in celebration as she kisses your cheek repeatedly as the girls surrounded you in celebration. “mi niña (my girl)” she grins up at you.

you kiss her forehead in appreciation and couldn’t help but grow a little warm at the pet name, as well as the way she was looking at you as if you were the reason the run had risen in the morning. (she truly believed this)

sure you both got asked over the years if the two of you were dating and it slightly hurt to shut it down.

you received numerous questioning expressions when you’d say, “no, we’re best friends” but the two of you chose to ignore. you both didn’t like each other like that. (silly)

—

[ 24 years old ]

it was until you both decided to return home that everything took a turn. your comeback to barcelona as the dynamic duo had been highly anticipated ever since the transfer rumours came out. and when the contracts were finalised and you and ona were promoted together, it went viral.

falling back into the team with new and old teammates was fluid, and exciting. you both felt good about the whole situation, excited for the new chapter ahead.

ona had partnered up with aitana for training because alexia had dragged you away as soon as she could.

“you like her” she teased, your eyes widen and you give her a little slap on the shoulder, “no, i don’t” you grit out, making your captain laugh brightly.

“please don’t tell me you’re this stupid, have you seen how that girl looks at you?” she scoffs, “heart eyes, makes me feel sick” she mocks, you can’t help the little smile hinting at your lips and alexia smiles satisfied.

she prys the details from you and you surprisingly complied. alexia helped you realised that you’ve liked ona for a while, just never coming to terms with it.

you felt lighter after all of it was off your shoulders, thanking alexia for slapping some sense into you.

she humbly accepted as long as she was the maid of honour at your wedding, making you swear on your life that it would happen.

—

ona had also been in her own conversation with aitana. being one of your teammates for years as well as a close friend, she knew ona liked you, she always has.

she would beg ona to confess, knowing that you liked her back because it was just obvious to anyone with a pulse. she’d always shut down the thoughts quickly. but this time, she actually listened to aitana.

“ona, that girl is in love with you and if she isn’t, you can slap me in the face” aitana speaks with her hands, making ona follow the movements as she spoke.

“you’d actually let me slap you in the face?” ona laughs, aitana gives her a stern expression and ona stops, glancing your way to see you laughing with alexia. she smiles at your bright smile, making aitana shake her head and whisking she had her phone to capture the moment.

—

it was a team bonding session at alexia’s house, a dinner, movie, drinks type of situation. ona and you lived together, like always, so ona drove you both over. alexia opened the door with a hopeful smile but faltered slightly at the two of you just being friends when you gave her that little look of disappointment.

she gives you a longer hug than ona and it makes her slightly suspicious, she knew you and alexia were like sisters but she couldn’t help the funny feeling bubbling in her stomach.

she’d glare slightly whenever you and alexia would interact and it made alexia laugh, knowing that tomorrow you’d come to training with a girlfriend.

when you got in the car and saw ona gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned pale, you glance at her in worry.

“are you okay?” you ask nervously, she looks over at you for a split second before looking back in front. “i’m fine” she says flatly, oh you were in for it.

the rest of the drive was intense and quiet. the tension was unbearable. when you both made it home, ona bolted to her room and slammed the door shut, making you wince. you gave her about an hour to cool off before you cautiously knocked on her door.

“ona?” you say softly, you open the door to see her on her bed just scrolling on her phone, she instinctively moves over so you lie down next to her, staring up at the ceiling as she refuses to look at you.

“have i done something wrong?” you break the silence, ona sighs heavily, “no” she breathes out, turning in her side to face you and prompting you to do the same.

“do you like alexia?” she asks softly, you gawk at her in shock, “what? no!” you exclaim, ona’s cheeks burn a little, looking down to see your hand resting on the bed close to hers.

“why? are you worried?” you tease, ona bores her eyes into yours, “and if i was?” she says full of confidence, your mouth falls open slightly, just blinking as you looked at her in surprise.

both of you are pink cheeked with wide pupils, resembling a full moon. “what do you mean?” you utter, “nenita (babe) you know what i mean” ona says hopefully, you pause for a moment before nodding, your bodies subconsciously moving closer to one another like a magnetic field.

“te amo (i love you)” you say confidently, making the girl in front of you break out into a bright smile, “te amo (i love you)” she parrots, you break out into your own wide smile.

you look at each other lovingly for a moment before ona brings a hand up to cup your face, she glances down at your lips and you inhale eagerly, making her chuckle before she pulled you into a searing kiss.

time seemed to pause at this moment, just the warmth of your breaths and lips mingling unfolding like a gentle melody.

your lips moved tenderly with each other, unlocking the years of whispered promises of love you both never knew you were hoping for. your tongues explored each others mouths and it all felt two familiar, you were soulmates after all.

in that shared moment, the line between friendship and romance faded completely, leaving behind the gentle lull of your now joined heartbeats, the start of forever for the both of you.

—

when you both walked into training the next day with ona’s hand in the small of your back and a gentle kiss to your temple, the room erupted into cheers.

alexia and aitana exchange a high five, a couple of the girls exchanging money making you both laugh brightly at some of the disappointed but happy expressions in the room.

—

when you both went to the world cup and managed to win through a goal from you, ona proclaimed your love then and there, unable to hold it in anymore.

when she pulled you into a loving kiss after that final whistle blew, it was a special moment for tje both of you. especially since you were both fulfilling that promise of bringing home that gold medal.

you and ona’s friendship stood as a witness to the growth and transformation for the both of you. standing as a testament of love that began with the simplicity of a girl kicking a football to you because she thought you looked lonely, forming into a profound and everlasting connection.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill, just pretend it’s you!!

liked by alexiaputellas and 44,232 others

ona.batlle: mi media naranja (my better half)

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yourname: mi onita xx

yourname: mi media naranja (my better half)

↳ ona.batlle: pretty baby

alexiaputellas: you two would be NOTHING without me

↳ aitanabonmati: and me!!

↳ ona.batlle: all you two did was make fun of us

↳ alexiaputellas: worked though, didn’t it?

↳ ona.batlle: …….

↳ yourname: she said thank you!

context!! - mi media naranja: the literal translation is 'to find your half orange. ' when an orange is cut in half, the two halves match each other perfectly, but no other orange half is likely to fit so closely’ essentially meaning - your better half, your soulmate

[peterparkersnose]

I Fall In Love Too Fast

Part 2 to ‘Jealousy, Jealousy’

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 6.2k (I fed you guys well!)

warnings: implied age gap, carrot penis reference if you squint, Y/N is a greenhouse girlie, mutual pining, use of y/n, fluff, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, mentions of pregnancy, borderline bullying, stalking, attempting break in, violence, angst, description of blood (sort of), consensual cuddling, joel can’t tell his veggies apart (edited sort of)

a/n shaking rn i need to see cocaine bear asap

summary Y/N and Joel have an unlikely meeting in Jackson’s greenhouse. 

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 22 mins 43 seconds

The low hums of the generator filled your ears. The greenhouse could be very peaceful at times. Something you couldn’t explain drew you to the plants. Ever since you were a child, your friends from the old QZ you grew up in would always question why you would rather read the old book about botany you found than play tag.

When you were presented with the opportunity of working in the greenhouse in Jackson, you were more than happy to accept the position. All the vegetation calmed you for some reason. It was a sense of control in this crazy world. It was almost like it was normal inside that tented space.

After a few years of living in Jackson, Maria decided to appoint you as head greenhouse keeper. You had proved your success throughout the years, the vegetation grew by over 35% (according to Maria, stats were never your thing).

It had been a few days since you had seen Joel. It was a quick, longing goodbye early in the morning. He wanted to make sure you were home before Bradley would have to wake up. The thought of your… ex? You weren’t even quite sure yet. But the thought of him made you want to vomit. And the thought of Joel made you feel… well, safe.

The music coming from your walkman began to skip. The old CD player was old in the time cordyceps started, but nevertheless it trudged on through the pandemic. CD’s were rare, but they were often traded in the community. Currently, Frank Sinatra’s greatest hits skipped through your headphones. Ellie’s CD, presumably from Joel. You didn’t take Ellie for a big Sinatra fan. The thought of having something of his with you made the music just a little bit sweeter.

The song “I Fall In Love Too Easily” began to play clearly through the headphones. You had the headphone jack placed in just the right angle. Ignoring everything else in the world, you swayed to the music slowly as you were washing off the carrots in the sink. As the song continued, you began to hum along with the tune. The song was new to you; the lyrics weren’t mastered in your brain yet.

***

Joel trudged down the muddy streets of Jackson. Tommy and Maria were having a get together that night, and he stupidly agreed to help. Maria requested him to go to the greenhouse to pick up some produce. After Maria’s pushing and adamancy, Joel finally agreed to go. He was suspicious on why he had to go and why Maria just couldn’t go herself, but he decided to leave the possible argument alone and just do what he was told. He wanted to stay back and help Tommy with the roast anyways. That was his specialty. Back in Texas, Joel would make the best damn barbecue in the neighborhood.

Hell, he had never even had to go to the greenhouse before. He was perfectly content on living off of canned beans and coffee. And it was Sunday; the one day everyone had off. The greenhouse was sure to be abandoned, meaning he would have to forage for the produce himself. Did he know the difference between a zucchini and a cucumber? Hell no. Not even when life wasn’t shit he couldn’t figure that out.

Maria smirked as herself and Tommy watched Joel slump down the street. Joel was reading off the slip of paper Maria had written down directions on to the greenhouse. “The only person crazy enough to be workin’ on a Sunday is Y/N, if anyone is there.” Tommy said. “Why do you think I sent him?”

They both gave each other conniving looks.

“You saw the way he acted at the Tipsy Bison earlier this week,” Maria said, sucking her teeth and turning around to tend to her stew. “Don’t you want him to be happy?” She called back to Tommy. He shook his head at his wife’s antics and returned to the roast.

***

Joel let out a scoff as he realized he knew exactly where he was going. The big, white tent that sat on the edge of Jackson. Embarrassingly, he made his way towards the big landmark he mistakenly used to take for a medical ward. To his surprise, the lights were on.

Joel gave the door a few knocks before he opened it, not to freak out the possible worker who could have been behind the door. He quietly slipped in. He brushed some of the mud off his boots as he opened the second door.

A rush of heat hit his face. His eyes scoured the large facility in look for a person. And right then is why he realized Maria was so damn adamant about him going to the greenhouse. 

Your hair was tied up like it was the night you stayed at his house. He recognized the flannel you had on as his own. Your jeans and boots were a classic look that almost every woman had around town. What he didn’t expect was the headphones and walkman clipped to your jeans.

Soft humms came from you. Joel was feeling conflicted; his ego couldn’t allow him to feel this way about you. But the way you do gracefully moved your hips and cleaned those carrots drove him nuts. The thought of you in his kitchen, the two of you cooking together brought warmth to the bitter man’s heart.

Bringing himself back to reality, he looked at the list Maria had scratched down for him. Maybe you could help him find a… butternut squash? He didn’t know there was more than one type of squash.

He stood in the entrance and waited for you to notice him; but you never did. You were so invested in that little sink that you never bothered to look his way. Joel took a deep breath, realizing he was going to have to get your attention.

The fearless man began to tremble with anxiety. He cautiously walked over stray hoses and tried to keep his footsteps on the louder side, so you could maybe hear he was coming.

You yelped as he tapped your shoulder. The carrot you were holding in your hand fell into the sink.

“I’m sorry I-”

“Oh thank god, it’s just you.” you said out of breathe, holding your hand to your chest. “Scared the shit out of me,”

The music played through the headphones as you wrapped the cord loosely around your neck. It played long enough for Joel to recognize the song.

“Sinatra?” he asked, your music taste peaking his interest. You clipped the walkman to your belt, it now rested against the black shirt you had his flannel loosely on top of. “Ellie loaned it to me,” you said, grabbing a towel and drying your hands.

“Must be mine then,” Joel tittered, nervously playing with the piece of paper in his grip. Your eyebrows raised in question, ignoring the confirmation of your previous theory. “I loaned it to her a few months back, thought she must’ve lost it but… I guess not.”

“Do you want it back? Here, you can…” you nervously said, struggling to get the walkman out of your belt loop. “Keep it, really. You seem to like it more than me.” he said, again. “Oh, I have this-” you said, beginning to strip the oversized flannel off your body. “Here,” you said, balling up the flannel and reaching it out to Joel. “Nah, it looks better on you than me. Trust me,” he said, awkwardly refusing the gift of his own belongings.

He could imagine drunk you saying “He said it looked better on me,” as you did a few nights ago in his bed when he called you ‘pretty girl’.

Why was he giving his things to you?

You wrapped the flannel around your waist. “What can I help you with?”

He outstretched the paper to you.

“Maria’s cookin’?” you asked, walking past Joel with the confidence that you knew where you were going. Obediently, he followed you.

“Some stew or something, she says it’s good but…” Joel said, sucking in air sharply. “Not so good?” you smirked, reaching a planter and looking up at him. He shook his head no but then said “It’s delicious,” in a forced, sarcastic tone.

You pulled out the first vegetable and handed it to Joel. Moving along, you moved to the next planter.

“Is that what your doin’ tonight?” you asked him, going through the pea pods trying to pick out the best ones. “Yup.”

He stood for a second in silence as he felt like something was missing. “Would you like to come?” he asked, praying Tommy wouldn’t kill him and Maria’s stew would taste better than it did last time.

Your heart sank because you already had plans. “I’m so sorry,” you began. Joel’s face turned bright red.

He was right. He was too old for all of this. You were just interested in being friends, maybe not even friends. He was so embarrassed, he was ready to go back in his house and never come out again.

“I promised Ellie and Dina I would come over tonight. Have a little sleepover, if you could call it that. Definitely need a rain check though, I would love to some other time.”

That damn kid stole his date.

“Oh, yeah. No worries.” he said, the rejection ruining his confidence.

“I mean it though, rain check.” you said, piling more veggies into his grasp. That built back some of his shattered rizz.

You made your way to the front of the greenhouse, getting ready for the last produce. Potatoes.

You chuckled as you looked behind you. Joel’s presence seemed to fall back. He was struggling to keep all the produce in his hands.

“Would you like a bag?” you asked, slowly moving towards the woven bags hanging on the wall. “Would be nice,” he awkwardly chuckled, grabbing a falling bunch of broccoli from his hands.

“Here,” you said, opening the bag in front of him as he layed everything in. “Shit,” he mumbled as a stray carrot stalk fell. You both bent down to retrieve it.

His hand accidentally layed on yours for a brief second. It should have been a minuscule moment, but time seemed to freeze. You looked up into his gaze as you both stood up, still both holding the carrot. You never wanted this moment to end.

“Potatoes?” Joel asked. Trapped in his gaze, you answered “Huh?”

“Don’t I need a few potatoes?”

You blinked a few times, bringing yourself back into reality. “Uh, yeah. Follow me.” you said, trying to calm your heavy breathing. You could almost feel your heartbeat pumping out of your chest.

The green tops of the potatoes reached out of the grass. Inspecting each top, you slowly and carefully made your decision. “You sure know what your doin’,” Joel commented as you looked up at him from the leaves. “Botany is my passion,”

“By the way your looking at those potato stems, I believe you.” “Maria’s stew has to be good this time. I can tell this one is a good one because of how thick the leaves are. The bugs haven’t gotten to it yet because it’s in the middle, you see. They are full grown, these are the ones planted around the spring. There full grown and…”

You looked up at Joel and found him with a sly smile. “I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“I like ramblin’. Could listen to it all day.”

He wanted to say he could listen to you all day; Even if all you talked about was potatoes.

“At least someone enjoys my rambling.”

Memories of Bradley point blank telling you to shut up because you were explaining how herbs could be used in medicine once plagued your mind. Then, the memory of his face bloodied scurrying on the bar floor replaced those. And you felt that warm feeling again, safe with Joel in the greenhouse.

Selecting the perfect one from the middle row, you began to pull. And pull some more. “God dammit,” you muttered to yourself. Giving up, you moved some of the dirt around the root.

“Can you help?” you asked kindly, as pulling on it one more time was unsuccessful. Joel placed the bag of produce down and moved to a different angle.

You expected them to pull out easily when he went for them, but he was struggling too. “What you do to ‘em?” he asked, wiping his hands off on his jeans. “Locked in or something,”

You angrily decided to try pulling again.

“Let me,” he said. To your surprise, his hands came to your shoulders to ease the suspense of touch. Then, he moved forward bringing you into his embrace. His hands rested below yours. Your shoulders matched up almost perfectly with his broad chest.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice sending chills down your spine. You could tell how warm he was, even with the heat of the greenhouse making the both of you sweat. His arms flexed on yours as he began to pull the potatoes up along with your grip. He pushed back and you followed his grip. Within a few seconds, the potatoes freed from the dirt and sent the two of you flying backwards.

You two landed back first on the dirt ground. The feeling of his arms were still around you, he was still holding you on the ground. He had let go of the potatoes and they were thrown down the isle.

The two of you burst out in laughter, staring at the ceiling of the greenhouse. You genuinely didn’t want to leave this moment; and neither did he.

“I totally loosened it for you.” you bragged, sitting up and looking down at him. One hand rested under his head, the other layed comfortably on his stomach. “Sure ya did.”

He took your hand as you helped him up. His knees cracked, and he prayed that you didn’t hear it. The two of you made your way to the washing station at the other end of the greenhouse.

“Potato,” you said in a stern tone. He placed one in your hand. “Brush,” you requested. He handed you the brush. You turned on the water and scrubbed the dirt off the potatoes. “Towel,”

“Yes ma’am.”

The two of you laughed as he played along into your antics. He was standing so close that his hips seemed to connect with yours. “Is that the last one?” he asked, drying off the fifth potato. “Unfortunately,” you sighed.

“Your welcome back any time to wrestle some potatoes again, if you’d like.” you said, following him to grab his original bag of produce. “Why don’t we take on the corn next week?” he asked, not wanting to leave. He just knew Maria would be bombarding him with questions about what took so long.

“It’s a date!” you said, mostly serious but in a joking manner.

Dina froze at the door. Ellie was making homemade pizza for that night and sent Dina to get some tomatoes. She was frozen, peeping through the door she watched. Dina had just gotten a front row viewing of you and Joel struggling with the potatoes, your awkward impromptu cuddle on the ground, and the romantic potato washing.

As Dina saw the two of you finishing your… encounter, she made her way quickly to the side of the building.

Ellie is going to love this.

***

“Ellie, your never going to believe-”

“Where are my tomatoes?” she asked, disappointedly. Dina burst into the kitchen of their small house frantically. “Forget the tomatoes, El. You’ll never guess what I just saw.”

“What, another stray cat? For the last time, no stray cats.”

“Joel and Y/N.” she said astonished. She took a place on one of the barstools next to the counter.

“What about them?”

“No- Ellie. Joel and Y/N, they were cuddling in the greenhouse.”

Ellie looked up from her dough she was making. “Dina, did you breathe in some outhouse gas?”

“No! I promise you. I was going to get the tomatoes, but they were just laying there. Then they got up and washed potatoes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone wash vegetables so… sensually before.”

“I think your bullshitting me. Who cuddles in a greenhouse?” Ellie questioned, turning around and looking through the pantry. “Old stuff is going to have to do,” she sighed, pulling the old can of marinara sauce out from the back of the pantry.

“I wonder…” Dina began. “You remember how I told you about Bradley,”

“You remember how much I want Tommy to banish him?” Ellie reminded Dina. “Joel knocked that dude out!” Dina exclaimed.

“Yeah, but that’s just Joel being Joel. I’m sure he would do it for any one of us.”

“He walked her home!” Dina complained. “Your going to tell me there’s nothing going on there?”

“I think we should wait and ask Y/N. Not make assumptions,” Ellie sighed, giving Dina the side eye.

“They’d be cute, that’s all I’m saying.”

***

The sun was at the end of setting, the sky was a deep purple. You noticed Joel’s boot marks in the mud and how big they were compared to your feet. “Damn,” you whispered to yourself, stepping in one of his prints. Another pair of prints seemed to circle around the greenhouse. They were similar in size to your feet and had a different shape then the bottom of your shoes.

Following the odd marks, they moved to the side of the greenhouse. And then made a straight line towards where you were going: Ellie and Dina’s house.

“Oh no,” you sighed, following either Ellie or Dina’s footprints. You prayed one of them didn’t see you with Joel.

You tried to imagine Ellie’s reaction to it. What would there to be mad about? You were just friends with Joel. Even though you had admitted to yourself he was just your passing patrol crush about a year ago, you were taking things slowly with this new found interest.

And he was older than you, there was that. Adults can make adult decisions, you reminded yourself. You and Joel were both adults that had experienced a lot in life, even though yours was a bit shorter than his.

Would Ellie be mad? Her… Joel and her best friend (besides Dina of course). You shoved the idea to the back of your mind as you knocked on their door.

Dinner had an odd vibe to it. Dina had already had a few too many glasses of wine, and you were avoiding the alcohol at all costs. The other night was enough for this week.

“Your not drinking?” Ellie asked, chewing down on her pizza. “Nah,” you said, briefly commenting.

“What, you pregnant?” Dina laughed, filling her wine glass up again. You almost choked on your pizza. “God Dina, no.” you chuckled. “I haven’t fucked Brad in… four months? I think I would know by now.”

“Gross!” Ellie cringed. “I’m trying to eat!”

“Sorry, sorry.” you jokefully apologized. “Anything… new? With you know, Bradley?” Dina asked. Something was up with her.

“Not since Joel kicked him on his ass,” you said.

Dina gave Ellie a strange look. “Yeah, I remember. Did he get you home alright that night?” Dina asked. You swallowed a bit of your pizza. “Mhm,”

You hated lying to your friends. Without the truth, you felt miserable. You wanted to tell them all about Joel and how you have been secretly borderline obsessed with him since that night, but word getting back to Joel might scare him off. And you didn’t want Ellie to freak out.

“Then how come I didn’t see your porch light on when I left with Maria?”

You froze in your seat.

“I’m just fucking with you,” Dina teased, pushing her hand into your arm. “You like him though, don’t you.”

Lying is one thing you were never good at. “He’s a nice man.”

“You like him though, don’t you?”

The lack of response and the quickening of your breathe didn’t help your case. “Dina,” Ellie said, stepping in to Dina’s drunken antics.

“He took you to his house, didn’t he?”

“I…”

The whole town of Jackson seemed more quiet than usual. Ellie looked at your face and could see the panic. Her eyebrows rose as her stare widened, watching you squirm in your seat at Dina’s question.

“Holy fuck! Did you fuck Joel?” Ellie asked, now realizing the reality in Dina’s games. She was right; Dina totally saw you two at the greenhouse.

“No! No.” you defended yourself. That was the truth at least. “I… I didn’t want Bradley coming around and…”

“Oh my god,” Ellie said, standing up from the table. “We’re just friends! He’s a nice man Ellie, you know that.”

“Then why did I see you two cuddling in the greenhouse today?” Dina muttered from behind her wine glass.

You sighed and buried your head in your hands. So the shoe prints belonged to Dina.

“Y/N.” Ellie said sternly, standing at her place at the table and crossing her arms. “Tell me the truth.”

You grabbed Dina’s wine glass and took a large gulp.

“I- I like him, okay? I think he’s handsome, and kind and considerate. Everything Bradley isn’t and everything I deserve.” you said angrily, getting out of your seat and slamming it back in the table.

“Dina, your a dick when your drunk.” you yelled, grabbing your coat and heading for the door as Dina giggled at her spot.

“Y/N,” Ellie said, grabbing your hand. She closed her eyes and took a long breathe. “Your being for real?” Ellie asked, her look turned more sincere.

“As real as a bite,” you sighed.

***

The three of you, now in pajamas, sat in Ellie and Dina’s bed. Dina was braiding your hair as Ellie layed flat on her back and stared at the ceiling.

“Y/N Miller,” Ellie said out of the blue. Your head whipped over to where she was sitting, pulling your braid Dina was working on. “Jesus, El. A little too soon for that? I doubt it even,” you giggled. “In this world?” Dina asked. “I can lend you my white dress. With the embroidered flowers?” Dina suggested.

The memory of her embroidering those last summer resurfaced. “It is awful pretty,”

“And I can do your hair, hold on.” Dina said, undoing the braid she had been working on.

You felt her hands begin to work. “I just don’t know if he likes me back…” you sighed.

“Y/N. I know Joel. He wouldn’t just lay on the dirt floor with anybody.” Ellie assured you. “He barely speaks to anyone in Jackson as it is,”

“Would he even say anything? If he liked me?”

“Jesus, Y/N. This isn’t high school. Just tell him.” Ellie teased, sitting up in bed. “I’ll talk to him. Work some of my magic-”

“You better not!” you seethed, giving Ellie a glare. “Don’t embarrass me!”

“Ta da!” Dina announced, finishing putting a pin in your hair. You jumped off the bed and moved to the mirror.

It was in a low bun with a few stray hairs framing your face. It was so effortless and so elegant. “Dina,” you gasped, carefully cupping the bun with your hand. “I can make it ten times better, but just a thought.”

“I love it,” you gasped. “If I ever get married, you two are in charge of the wedding.”

***

Joel ate awkwardly at the table with Maria and Tommy in silence. The only noise in the whole house was the scratching of silverware.

“How was the patrol? Yesterday.” Maria asked both Tommy and Joel. “Alright,” they both said in unison. They definitely were brothers, men of very few words.

“Any news on the power plant improvement?” Tommy asked Maria. “I had some guys there today. So nice, working on their Sunday off.” she added.

“You know who works on Sundays?”

Joel’s fork stopped moving.

“I hear Y/N is running the greenhouse real nice.” Tommy said, already knowing the answer to Maria’s question.

“How was she, Joel?”

Joel looked up at Maria with a side eye. “Fine.”

“They’ve got blueberries now! Damn blueberries, I haven’t had any since before this shit. They were good,” Tommy mused, reminiscing on the delicious fruit.

“She’s a good chef too,” Maria commented. “Made some amazing salad dressing for the winter party a few weeks ago. Did you try her cookies too?”

“I remember,” Tommy added. “She’s gonna make a real nice wife some day.”

Joel’s fist hit the table a little too hard as he set down his glass. Both Tommy and Maria looked at him shocked.

“You alright?” Tommy asked.

“Can we change the subject?” Joel asked bitterly. “Why so angry? What’d she ever do to you?” Tommy pushed. “Goddamit Tommy,” he yelled, shoving his chair in.

“Thanks for the wonderful meal, Maria.” he hissed, lying and abruptly leaving their house. The picture frame on the wall shook a bit as he slammed the door.

“He’s down bad.” Tommy laughed. Maria sighed, her hands rubbing her temples. “Why do the two of you always seem to ruin a good night?”

“Hey, I barely did anything.” Tommy resisted with his hands in a defensive pose. “You know he likes her. The sheer mention of her makes him leave.” Maria commented. “God, I hope those two idiots find each other again. I don’t know how much more I can take of this.” Tommy sighed, chewing away at his roast.

It was dark outside now. Joel could hear the whisps of the wind blow in the trees. Creepy if you’d ask him, but Joel wasn’t afraid of much anymore. Almost all the houses were dark; with the exception of a few porch lights.

He turned down the main street and looked at all the lights still on. Maria’s guys must have fixed the power plant, pls business signs were flooding the street with their light. He glanced up at Ellie and Dina’s apartment; it was over one of the textile shops in the downtown department. The lights were out besides the one outside the entrance.

He took a double take when he saw someone standing out there.

Moving closer, he recognized the crouched down figure trying to pick their lock.

Bradley.

He reached the bottom of the old metal staircase before making himself known. He cleared his throat loudly.

“What in the hell are you doing?”

Bradley recoiled in fear, dropping the pocketknife on the metal landing. “It’s not what it looks like- I swear it Mr. Miller.”

“Then what does it look like?” he asked, slowly walking up each step. “I-I… Y/N invited me over. You know, lighten up the time with them. T-they had left over food she said.”

Bradley’s cowardly tone made Joel smile. He cracked a few of his fingers, intimidating Bradley farther and farther.

Joel knew Ellie. There was no way she would ever have leftovers; let alone invite anyone besides Dina to share them.

“You got about five seconds to tell me why-”

Joel was older and tougher, but Bradley was sly. He jumped up, grabbing the knife he dropped and swiped at Joel’s face with it.

Joel quickly ducked as fast as he could and kneed him in the gut. Bradley let out a loud oomf as Joel grabbed both of his hands and held them behind his back. “Nice try,” he whispered in his ear.

Now behind Bradley, Joel gave him a rough push down the metal stairs and took great pleasure in watching him flail down.

Unfortunately, the front door flung open and he was met with a shot gun to his face. He sighed, waiting for Ellie to realize who it was.

She cautiously lowered the gun as she recognized Joel’s face in the dim light.

“I taught you too well,” Joel sighed, moving the barrel of the gun out of his range.

“What’s wrong?” Dina asked, peeking out from behind the wall. You weren’t far behind her, hopping on your tippy toes to see what the matter was.

“You fucking fuck!” Bradley yelled from the ground. He was rolling around, clutching his leg. “You broke my leg, you asshole!”

Ellie looked at Joel in confusion. “Caught your peepin’ Tom on my way home.”

Emerging from behind Dina, you recognized those two voices from anywhere.

“Joel?”

His eyes met yours.

“Y/N, I dunno if you wanna look.” Joel advised. Ellie stepped out of the way as you poked your head out the door. A small gasp came when you saw your ex laying on the concrete. “Bradley, what the fuck!” you yelled.

“Please, Y/N. Take me back, I promise to treat you better than that old, violent grandpa!” He yelled, still in a ball on the ground. Joel let out a small breath of air from his nose. ‘Grandpa is really the best you got?’ he thought to himself.

“Your fucking pathetic.” you called back down to him. “How did he know I was even here?” you said, turning around to ask Ellie. She shrugged. Your hands began to tremble. “Hey, hey.” Ellie said, recognizing the panic arising in you.

She gestured for Joel to come in. She flicked a lamp on as you sat on the couch. “I can go get Tommy and a few other guys, we can deal with him.” Joel suggested.

Ellie looked at you for confirmation. Your eyes darted from her to Joel and back to her. She knew what you needed in that time. You needed him.

“Let me and Dina go get Tommy. I doubt Brad is going anywhere anytime soon.”

Joel opened his mouth to resist, but then saw you shaking on the couch. He knew Ellie was more than capable of fucking this guy up, and he rather stay with you. Even if the fucking up of Bradley sounded oh, so appealing.

“Alright.” he nodded, watching the two girls pull on their coats.

“May I?” he asked, outstretching his hand referencing to the couch spot next to you. You nodded your head. He sat next to you, not touching you. Joel was unsure of how to approach this.

“Joel?” you asked, turning to look at him. Your breathing was shaky and your eyes were glossy. “Yes?”

Without his consent, you moved closer to him on the couch. Your thighs were touching. The need for him to hold you right then was strong.

Joel let out a sigh of relief as he took your invitation of affection. His arm wrapped around your shoulder. You found comfort in his body, cuddling in and moving your arms closer to your body as he held you.

“Everything is alright,” he re assured you, taking his thumb and started slowly running circles into your shoulder.

“I’m sorry about what he said.” you sighed. “What- the grandpa comment? Pfft,” Joel chuckled. Your body moved against his as he laughed. “Doesn’t even phase me.”

“Well, he’s wrong.” you said. Joel looked down at you. “About what?”

“There is no way he could treat me better than you.”

A soft smile rose to Joel’s mouth. He wished he could hold you like this every night. The sweet smell of the rationed out shampoo filled his senses as he took another deep breath.

“Your damn right,” Joel whispered, leaning down and placing a soft kiss to the top of your head. Your arm stretched along his torso, holding him tightly as the sounds of Bradley’s wails came from below.

***

At least an hour had passed. You had dozed off, leaving Joel alone in Ellie’s apartment. You were still connected to Joel at the hip, but your grip had loosened on his waist.

He looked down at you adoringly. He thought of almost every scenario as he waited for Ellie and Dina to return.

He had to ask you out. He wasn’t quite sure how, he figured Tommy could maybe give him some pointers. Or maybe Ellie, she seems to know what women like. And then dating you. He wanted to take you out to the fields outside of Jackson. A nice picnic maybe, you two could maybe bring some food from the greenhouse. He remembered how when he was a child he used to eat cucumber sandwiches (there better than they sound, trust me).

You could teach him the difference between a zucchini and a cucumber. You could be that balance in his life; something he had been searching for since he was a teenager.

He noticed your hair was in a falling out low messy bun. He imagined a veil coming out from it, and a luxurious white gown on you. Sure, he was getting ahead of himself. Little did he know you were discussing the topic of marriage just hours prior.

The fantasies about a lavish, non infected world wedding were diminished as Ellie and Dina made their way through the door.

“Shh,” Joel said, silencing their conversation.

“Aww,” Dina said, still a little tipsy from the night before.

“You should take her home. Bradley won’t be bothering her anymore.” Ellie said sternly. Joel noticed the bloodied knuckles on Ellie’s hand. Dina placed her baseball bat next to it’s resting place at the door.

“Hey,” Joel whispered, rubbing your shoulder. You groaned, holding him tighter. “Good morning,” you muttered. “Still night time, doll. Let’s get you home.”

You slowly woke up in Joel’s embrace. The scent of him sent you back to the first night you spent in his bed. “You wanna go home?” he asked you again. “No,” you protested.

“I’m sober,”

Joel looked at you in confusion. “Remember? ‘Talk to me when your sober’, or something like that?”

The memory clicked in Joel’s mind.

“I want to stay with you.”

Joel couldn’t resist. He helped you up from the couch. He grabbed your jacket from the coat rack and helped you put your arms through your sleeves.

“Is that a yes?” you asked him as he silently closed Ellie and Dina’s door. He sighed. “Sure,”

Walking hand and hand down the abandoned street, you began to humm the Frank Sinatra song from earlier that day. Joel listened to your sweet tune the whole way home.

As you reached his house, you kept the tune going again and again. Joel led you to his bedroom with his hand in yours. His alarm clock read a little after three.

“Get comfy,” he said, throwing his jacket in the corner. You dropped your jacket, leaving it by the bedroom door with your boots. All that was left was your jeans and your black tank top.

“You don’t care if I slip into something more comfortable, do you?” he asked. “Not at all.”

Joel stared at you awkwardly. “You want me to go to the bathroom or…”

“It’s your house. I don’t mind,” you said, boldly sliding off your jeans and kicking them into your pile. Your gray underwear was left on as you sat on the edge of his bed.

“Alright,” he chuckled, adoring your boldness. His pants came off and hit the ground with a thud. His heavy belt buckle made the noise. He opened a drawer and took out a pair of red flannel pajama pants.

“Look! They match the flannel,” you exclaimed.

He turned around, completely enamored by you. Your excitement, your pep, and everything else about you was just what he was lacking in his life. For the first time in years, Joel felt himself feel genuinely happy. It was scary for him, but he was ready to let go.

“Can I just say…” he said, walking up to you sitting on his bed. His right hand slowly cupped your left cheek. His thumb slowly, softly ran across your cheek. “You really do look better in the flannel in than me.”

He slowly bent down, giving you enough time to resist. To his surprise, you began to rise off the bed and connected your lips with his. Rising off the bed, you continued the kiss as you both took a few steps. His hand reached around your waist, finding a comfy spot on the bottom of your back. Your hands had moved to his hair, slowly playing with the locks in your fingers.

“I’ve been waiting for you to do that,” you smiled, still in his embrace.

Joel’s body melted into yours. “I… I really…” he struggled to say. “‘I really’ you too,” you said, expressing to him that it was okay to be afraid. But you were there, and was ready for anything at any pace. His soft eyes seemed relieved at the confirmation of the now mutual feelings.

“Let’s get some sleep, hm?” you asked, sitting back down on the bed and breaking from his embrace.

His body held yours. Joel’s arms protectively kept you in his embrace. The four legs intertwined and kept each other warm underneath the blanket. You pushed into his figure, making yourself feel more secure than ever.

As he held you in bed, the tune began to sing again in your head. In a before sleep epiphany, you remembered the lyrics.

“But I still fall in love too easy, I fall in love too fast,” you whispered. Joel’s head burrowed in the nape of your neck. A tiny kiss was placed there in confirmation of what he had just heard.

Happiness consumed the both of you.

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @rosie0611 @vivalasv3gan

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |1|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Talks of Killings and Murder

Word Count: 3.5k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

Sam sighed as she put her key in the door, slowly unlocking each of the locks. She wanted to go to the gym after her shift, but she forgot her gym bag at the apartment. She really needed to look into renting one of the lockers the gym had. Her gym wasn’t too far away but coming home meant having to deal with Tara and her friends.

“Hey,” Sam greeted.

Tara was stretched out on the couch, Chad had his knees pulled close to him as he sat on the floor, watching whatever movie they had thrown on, Ethan was curled up on one of the chairs, and then Anika sat in the recliner with Mindy draped over her. Sam opened her mouth to ask about Quinn when she heard the usual noise coming from Quinn’s room.

“They’ve been at it since we got home,” Tara mumbled, rolling her eyes.

Sam chuckled with a shake of her head. The only downside to Quinn as a roommate was how loud she was with her various partners. Sam made her way across the living room and towards her room. She quickly threw on a tank top and some sweats before grabbing her gym bag. She did a quick check to make sure she had a change of clothes, just in case, before grabbing her water bottle and making her way into the kitchen. As she filled her water bottle the sound of Mindy and Tara got louder, arguing about whatever they were watching.

“I’ll be back in an hour or two,” Sam said.

“Wait,” Chad said, making Sam stop just as her hand rested on the doorknob. “You’re going to the gym?” Sam nodded. “Cool if I join?”

“I thought you preferred the one on campus.”

“I do, but I missed my usual workout time and now it’s crowded,” Chad wrinkled his nose. “I don’t want deal with all that.”

It wasn’t that Sam didn’t want Chad to come with her, she liked working out with Chad. Mindy and Tara never wanted to step foot in the gym, Chad was literally the only person who would ever workout with her anyway. Chad was also a football player and had a solid routine, he taught Sam plenty when she first started working out.

“Fine,” she said.

Chad instantly jumped up from his spot on the floor. He rifled through his backpack until he finally pulled out a little gym bag. Chad was pretty much always ready to go to the gym, but he had a habit of doing a pretty intense workout and would always need a change of clothes.

The two of them waved goodbye to the others and began the trek to the gym. It was only about a fifteen-minute walk before the little, locally owned, gym came into view. It was the only thing in an otherwise abandoned parking lot, it was small, it was dated, but it had its own community. Sam knew she was all over the news, her history was out there for everyone to see, but not a single person in the gym ever questioned her or gave her a dirty look. Everyone who went to the gym was there to work out, they were also friendly and willing to help each other out if needed, and the owner was the same way, the kindest old man Sam had ever met. It was also a 24-hour gym, meaning Sam could get there in the middle of the night after a late shift and not be disturbed or she could go earlier, like now, and have the regulars around.

When they finally got there Sam swiped her badge, unlocking the door. As soon as they stepped into the gym Sam took in the slightly crowded room. Chad rested his hands on his hips and took a big whiff of the air. Sam glanced at him out of the side of her eye, furrowing her brow slightly.

“What?” Chad asked. “This is why I love coming here,” he gestured with his hands. “You can smell the sweat, smell the workouts being done!” Sam shook her head; Chad didn’t come to the gym with her often but whenever he did, he was like an overly excited child. “The one at school has great equipment but it all smells new,” Chad wrinkled his nose. “No matter what…” he began rubbing his chin as if he was contemplating the deep question as to how the gym could always smell that good.

Sam lightly slapped him on the shoulder and pushed him towards the weights. She had never worked out in Chad’s gym, she wasn’t allowed to since she wasn’t a student, but she had seen it a few times and knew Chad was right, the school seemed to have all the new equipment. Her gym didn’t have much, just a couple of each of the standard pieces of machinery. The gym had enough to give whoever came in a full workout, but everything was clearly worn-down from years of use. Sam thought the used equipment just added to the gym’s character.

As Sam followed behind Chad towards the weights she caught sight of you over in the back corner of the gym, where you always were. She shook her head, she was there to workout, the sooner she finished her workout, the sooner she could get back home, and the sooner she could go to sleep. They each put in their respective earbuds then each grabbed a set of dumbbells and began their warmup before they could get started on the true workout.

After a quick warmup Sam and Chad both made their way to the chest press machine. Sam did everything in her power not to look at you and only focus on her workout. You were in her peripheral and it was taking all her focus not to turn her head just a little more to get a better visual. She tried to focus on just getting her reps in and that be that. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to listen to her music as she finished up her last few reps.

“Hey,” Chad said, tapping her on the arm. She looked up to see he had already finished his workout and was now on his feet and stretching. “Spot me?” he nodded at a bench press that was open.

Sam nodded, she didn’t use the bench press often because she usually didn’t have a spotter and as nice as everyone was in the gym she didn’t want to inconvenience any of them by asking. As much as she wanted to continue her workout, she didn’t mind the break if it meant helping Chad.

Sam stood behind the bench as Chad got the weights into place then laid down. She got her hands ready, holding them under the bar as Chad got ready to start lifting. Sam stayed behind Chad, watching as he started doing his reps, ready to grab the bar if he needed. At least that’s what she was supposed to be doing. The bench press was on the opposite side of the gym still, but it gave Sam the perfect view of you.

Her gaze was intense as she stared straight ahead, stared straight at you. You were across the way, hitting the punching bag, like you usually were. You were one of the regulars at the gym and you ran on almost the same schedule as Sam. Sam had never spoken to you, she couldn’t deny that you were quite attractive though. Though being on such a similar schedule as her made her suspicious.

There were times, like now, when you were there, training with a few of the others around in the gym. Then there were times where it was late at night, and no one was in the gym save for you and Sam. Sam had almost left the first time she got to the gym thinking she was alone, only to see you there. The only reason she didn’t leave then or any time after that was because you never did anything. You would sometimes acknowledge Sam with a simple nod, like a lot of the regulars, and that was it, otherwise you focused on your workout. You didn’t really talk to anyone, though neither did Sam, the only time you truly engaged with someone else was when one of your buddies was with you.

Whenever you were there Sam’s eyes couldn’t help but gravitate towards you, even across the room. Maybe in another life, one where she wasn’t so paranoid, one where she was normal, she might have approached you, just over a year ago she would have even flirted with you, she might have even asked you out, but her life wasn’t normal. You were cute but you were mysterious, and a mysterious stranger was exactly what Sam’s life didn’t need.

“What are you looking at?” Chad asked, snapping her out of her daydream.

Sam looked down to see Chad had put the bar back up, even without her assistance. His hands still rested on the bar, but he was looking up at Sam curiously.

“Nothing,” Sam said, trying to brush him off.

This was exactly why she liked going to the gym alone. She liked to go to the gym and just get her workout done without any distractions, she also didn’t want the others to know about you. You were her little secret, her little crush, the first crush she had had since Richie. If any of the others had learned that she was even remotely attracted to you she’d never hear the end of it, especially not from Mindy or Tara. Despite hating the gym, if her sister and Mindy knew about you, they’d be begging her to come with her every day.

“Who is that?” Chad asked. He was now sitting up on the bench and looked back at Sam with a smirk.

Sam closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh, she was just hoping she wasn’t blushing. Based on the way Chad’s eyes darted from her to you she knew Chad had figured out exactly what she was looking at. “Nobody,” she mumbled.

“That,” Chad pointed at you with a light chuckle. “Is not nobody.”

“They’re just a regular at the gym,” she tried waving it off again.

Sam walked off, making her way to the treadmill. She was silently begging for Chad to drop it, she hoped that if she didn’t acknowledge it then he’d forget about it, he wouldn’t say anything to Mindy or Tara. She hopped on the treadmill and began at a slow and steady speed, she liked to work her way up to a light jog.

She stared straight ahead, ignoring Chad as he leaned against the side of the machine. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I go say hi to them then,” he said. Sam stumbled, nearly tripping over her own feet as she snapped her head towards Chad.

“Don’t,” Sam warned.

“I’m just going to ask if they want to spar,” he held his hands up but was already walking away from Sam and in your direction. Sam didn’t miss the slight smirk on Chad’s face as he made his way towards you.

Sam let out a huff and started smacking her feet harder as she quickened her pace. If she finished her workout early then she had every intention of leaving Chad there, she might even lock the door and refuse to let him in the apartment for the rest of the night. She couldn’t help but glance out of the side of her eye every few seconds, catching sight of Chad as he approached you and tried striking up a conversation. It didn’t seem to be going as he intended based on the way you were shaking your head as he gestured from himself to you and then to the boxing ring in the middle of the room.

Most of the time Sam saw you alone at the punching bag. You would have your earbuds in and just focus on hitting the bag, as if the entire world disappeared and it was just you and the bag. At other times, like now, when the gym was busiest, Sam noticed that sometimes you’d get in the ring with one of the guys and spar a bit. You always used the same guys though, you didn’t randomly grab someone, and it seemed like you tended to deny anyone who just came up you, like she was sure Chad was about to find out.

After a few minutes of trying to convince you, Chad finally walked back over to Sam with his head hung low. Chad jumped onto the treadmill with a dramatic sigh and began a light walk. Sam rolled her eyes, shaking her head at Chad’s ridiculousness and focused on finishing her workout.

“What happened?” Sam finally asked, taking pity on Chad.

“They said no,” he mumbled, kicking his feet at the treadmill as he continued to pout.

“They don’t usually spar with random people.” Behind Chad Sam could see you getting in the ring with one of your buddies. Neither of you had on any sort of gear besides the tape on your hands. “And I think you’re about to see why.”

Chad scrunched his eyebrow then turned back to where you were in the boxing ring, you and your buddy already circling each other. You waited for your friend to throw the first punch, like you always did. You blocked your friends’ first few shots then you started throwing your own punches. The two of you went back and forth, dealing blow after blow, each of you landed a few hits, but both of you blocked most of them.

“Damn,” Chad whispered.

Sam smirked as she went back to focusing on her workout. Despite never looking back at you she could tell you and your buddy were still at it based on the way Chad never changed the speed of his treadmill, his entire focus seeming to be on you. She wouldn’t deny it, watching you spar was something else, you clearly knew what you were doing, it was obvious you had some sort of training. Sam never understood why you didn’t spar with others who were willing, until she saw you for the first time, everyone else here was an amateur compared to you.

Sam turned off the treadmill and slowed her pace until she came to a gradual stop. “You good?” Sam asked. She took a swig of her water while she waited for Chad to acknowledge her presence again.

“What?” Chad looked back at her before quickly looking back at you. You brought your knee up, nailing your buddy in the ribs, then didn’t hesitate to punch him in the face. Chad visibly winced at the hit before hopping off the treadmill. “Let’s go!” he waved at her as if he was the one waiting on her.

Sam rolled her eyes and followed Chad. Before she walked out the door, she met your gaze as you turned in the ring, the two of you probably only held eye contact for half a second but it was enough to make Sam hold her breath. The last thing she saw before the door closed was you and your buddy resetting your positions and getting ready for another spar session.

Sam had to listen to Chad ramble about you the entire walk home. She usually wouldn’t mind her thoughts being consumed by you but since it was Chad rambling, she knew Mindy and Tara would surely hear about it. She was just hoping she could get into the apartment and into her room before Chad started telling them all the details.

Sam put the key in the door, unlocking all the locks once again. “They’re just so badass!” Chad said, his eyes wide as he gestured crazily with his hands. “I can’t believe you tried to keep them from me!” Sam sighed, pushing the door open.

“Who are you talking about?” Tara asked with a chuckle as soon as the two of them stepped into the living room.

“Another one of your lovers?” Mindy snarked, laughing at her brother’s expense.

“Not mine,” Chad quickly denied. “Sam’s,” he pointed back at Sam, who instantly froze as she dropped her keys into the little bowl beside the door. She didn’t need to look to know Mindy and Tara’s full attention was now on hers.

“You’re seeing someone?” Tara said. She was already on her feet and in front of Sam by the time she turned around.

“I’m not seeing anyone,” Sam sighed.

“Who is this mysterious stranger?” Mindy asked, coming up right behind Tara, leaving Anika to sit alone without a second thought.

“Y/N,” Chad happily supplied. All three girls whipped their heads around to see Chad placed at the dining table, popping open a yogurt. Sam tried to hide her smile, she hadn’t known your name, it was a nice name.

“Tell us everything!” Tara said, dragging Sam by the hand to the dining table.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Sam shrugged. “I don’t even-”

“They’re badass,” Chad interrupted, never looking up from his yogurt. “I asked them to spar, and they said no but then I learned why.” Chad looked up at the ceiling in a daydream like state, tapping his spoon against the yogurt cup. “I want to spar with them even more now.” Sam furrowed her brow, tilting her head at the comment.

“You’ve been holding out on us Sammy,” Mindy said, bumping her shoulder as she plopped down into the seat next to her. Sam flicked a glare at her, but Mindy’s attention was fully on Chad. “Spill,” she ordered, leaning half her body across the table.

Sam crossed her arms and slumped back in her chair. She had to sit there and just listen as Chad rambled on and on about you. She wasn’t sure how he could possibly have so much to say, he talked to you for not even ten minutes. He gave the girls a complete recap of their entire gym experience, Sam was definitely regretting allowing him to come with her. He gestured wildly with his hands, trying to mimic the same punches you had been doing.

“Wow,” Tara and Mindy said at the same time, both leaning back in their chairs once Chad was done.

“Are you sure you’re not in love with them?” Mindy asked, tilting her head at her brother.

“No!” Chad said quickly, a little too quickly. “I just think they’re amazing and I admire their workout routine, and I just want to get to know them and become their best friend…” Mindy nodded but gave her brother an unconvinced look.

“Can we go to the gym with you tomorrow?” Tara asked.

“They might not be there,” Sam mumbled without thinking.

“Oh!” Mindy screeched right in Sam’s ear. “You know their schedule.” She wiggled her eyebrows as she looked past Sam and at Tara who was giving her a knowing nod.

“We have a very similar schedule,” Sam defended.

“Sounds like a match made in heaven,” Mindy sighed, leaning into Sam’s side.

“I’m not looking for a relationship!”

“Come on Sam,” Tara sighed, much more calm than before. “You deserve to be happy. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“My last boyfriend tried to kill all of us,” Sam deadpanned, looking her sister in the eye.

Tara opened and closed her mouth a few times as she nodded. “But what are the odds of that happening again?”

“Guys!” Anika called, interrupting whatever excuse Sam was going to come up with next. “You have to see this.”

Everyone got up from the kitchen table and moved to the living room just as Anika turned up the volume. Everyone remained silent as the news played, talking about the murder of two college students. Sam didn’t even react to Quinn coming out of her room and joining them.

“It’s got everyone asking, is this the work of Ghostface?” the news reported said, ending the broadcast before showing the picture of the two boys murdered.

“Holy shit,” Mindy said. “Those are the dudes from our film class,” she pointed at the screen.

“We have to leave, now.”

“What? No!” Tara said, instantly trying to fight Sam. “We don’t even know what this is!” she pointed to the TV. “It could be nothing; they were clearly freaks!”

“Are you really willing to take that risk?” Sam snapped.

“Quinn! Call your dad,” Tara whipped around to look at their roommate. “Let’s at least figure out what’s going on before you uproot my life.”

Sam held Tara’s glare but didn’t argue as Quinn called her dad. She understood where Tara was coming from, she knew Tara wanted things to go back to normal and just wanted a normal college experience. Sam wanted to just cut and run though, even if there was no proof that Ghostface was actually back, she didn’t want to take the risk. Sam couldn’t help the feeling that it was starting all over again.

[rboooks]

The Adoptive Son. Part 2

Dick tries his best to keep his smile as Danny Crowne fumbles with his laptop, attempting to show Dick all the fantastic features he programmed onto it.

Don't be wrong; he enjoys new software, and the stuff Crowne made was awe-inspiring. He just wished it wasn't being used for one of his most disgusting crimes.

Babs, who was recently super into coding, had been all but foaming at the mouth when she got access to the new writing application Crowne Industries put out.

Yes, she got access a bit earlier than most since she hacked into the system attempting to find evidence of criminal activity, but she had tested it out and wanted it for herself.

"This writing program has an automatic save option after a certain amount of time goes by." Crowne blushes a little, looking bashful when Dick sends him a winning smile. "I-ugh, I forget how often computers crash, taking with them hours of work, so hopefully, this will help tired college students. It even has a way to retrieve lost files, just in case something does get deleted."

"Wow, you made all this by yourself? That's so impressive." Dick purrs, allowing his hand to land on Crowne's knee. The other man jumps slightly, looking down at the hand like he's never seen one before. At least this mission was easy.

Crowne's had plenty of people flirt with him over the years of his adoption. Dick had watched him at galas, sidestepping any courtship attempts like a well-practiced waltz. He charmed so many would-be suitors simply by his prince-like mannerism, silver tongue, dripping good looks, and of course, very large wallet.

He had thought it meant that Crowne was experienced in this sort of thing. Imagine his surprise at the beginning of the mission; Crowne fumbled through his flirtations and seemed so awkward it was almost endearing.

Danny Crowne didn't make much sense to Dick in this way.

He quickly became one of Gotham's most eligible bachelors and one of the first openly bisexual ones. Despite his adoptive parents less than ideal views on the gay community, Crowne never hid that part of himself. Once he had taken over the company, he had even gotten charities set up to support the gay youths of Gothams. He practically funded the Pride Celebrations, even more than Bruce, which showed how he became the new head of Crowne Industries

In four short years, he had snatched the company from the jaws of bankruptcy and dragged it to the top again. Everything they made was so revolutionary, even Bruce had been tempted to ask Crowne to join him for the first two years.

Back then, Dick had thought Crowne was weird.

All the guy did was talk about tech, and when he wasn't, he was staring into space or attempting to get into different equipment so he could take it apart and figure it out.

Crowne had been invited to his birthday party a few months after his adoption. Dick had seen him arrive, but he vanished from the room not long after- at the time, he didn't blame the other. The rest of their classmates were snobbish and a pain to be around- he later found Crowne pulling out one of his light sockets to check the wiring in Bruce's house.

It may have been the cheap light he was using, but Dick swore he had seen the guy's eyes glowing while he muttered to himself in an unknown language.

The Crownes had been mortified, forcing Crowne to apologize profoundly for ripping Bruce's things. Bruce had to play his part of Brucie, so he had laughed it off, asking the boy why he had done it in the first place.

" I meant no offense. I apologize for allowing my curiosity to cross a line. I was only interested in how advanced your home is. I figured the Wayne's would indicate where the world's leading systems would be." Fourteen-year-old Danny Crowne had told Bruce with a sweet smile that was far too wide and eyes that were far too bright.

It creeped fourteen-year-old Dick out so much he actively avoided the adoptive son of the Crowne for the last four years.

Now he wishes he had paid a little more attention. Maybe then he would have caught on to Crowne selling street kids on the black market.

"It's nothing, really." Crowne laughs nervously, flushing read as Dick gently rubs his knee. He smirks inwardly as the other man fumbles. "I couldn't have done it without Tim so-"

"Tim?" That's a new name. Dick quickly pressed the recording device that Bruce had installed into his bracelet. He hated that he was working with his ex-mentor again, but this was too big of an issue to allow his hurt feelings to get in the way. There were so many kids at stake.

"Tim Drake. His parents are out of the country a lot, so I started babysitting him when he was eight. He's thirteen now, but I got temporary guardianship of him when I turned eighteen. He's my pride and joy. " Crowne clarifies with a growing smile. Dick wanted to punch his teeth in for acting so loving, so caring, so fucking kind when it came to children.

He swallows the urge with incredible difficulty. "He sounds great."

He did know Timothy Drake, actually. The boy was his neighbor for years but didn't stand out much. He always looked like a little doll at the galas, vanishing from sight once his parents' backs were turned.

Dick often thought the boy was out of the country with his parents, primarily when they enrolled him in homeschool when he turned eight.

To think the Drakes were working on making a good relationship with Crowne since he first showed up, and no one within the Bats noticed. It was a little troubling.

Were the Drakes involved with the trafficking ring? Were the world trips just a means to smother out poor victims? Were they using their son, or was Tim Drake part of the scheme?

More questions and not enough answers.

"Y-you could meet him if you want," Crowne coughs, playing with a specialized keyboard- it was so flat. Dick had never seen a slimmer design- his face was a lovely red hue. "I have him for this month, so he's back at my apartment with his babysitter."

Perfect an opening.

"Mr. Crowne, are you inviting me back to yours?" Dick asks, allowing his voice to turn husky with sinful promise.

Crowne face turns even redder. "I didn't mean to assume, but...ugh, are you hitting on me?"

Dick almost laughs.

"I am." He says even as he thinks If only you weren't a scum bag. You are not ever going to get this lucky, you disgusting pig.

"Thank the Ancients. I was worried I may have interpreted your intentions. I would be honored if you accompanied me home-but, not for sex! I mean, I wouldn't be opposed to sex at a later date-just dinner? I can cook." Crowne closes his eyes as if pained, and Dick wishes he was the person he was pretending to be.

Oh well.

They all have their own masks.

Dick just happens to be someone who was bestowed with a criminal. He slips it on as quickly as his NightWing one, throwing an arm over Crowne and placing a tracker on his neck. The bastard didn't even notice. Good.

"I would love that Crowne."

"Danny." The man says with a warm relieved smile. "You can call me Danny."

"Then you can call me Dick"

Dick will have this man rotting away in a jail cell soon. He swears it.

(Part 1) (part 3)

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 1 - "It's not too late, let's go."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: G

Warnings: -

Danny frowned, his head resting on his arms as he sat in a café, staring at nothing in particular. Tucker was sitting next to him, typing away on his PDA and Sam was across from him glaring at his current state of dramatic pouting, frowning and sulking while ignoring his favorite coffee order she had especially ordered for him somehow even though the store did not even have it on their menu.

"Danny, how much longer are you going to sulk?"

"I don't know. How much longer until my next chance of ever meeting someone from outer space?"

"Danny."

"We missed the Hero Gala, Sam! That was our one and only chance!"

He looked away from her like a stubborn toddler. He knew he was being especially dramatic but his friends and him had planned this whole trip solely for meeting members of the Justice League in person. For one, to maybe meet the people that have been ignoring their cities' call for help for years now and request it personally if per call won't work and two, fulfill some of their own personal selfish desires to meet the hero's each one of them admired.

Though their trip clearly had been eventful considering how a lot of his ghost rogues tried to stop him from even leaving Amity Park, they also learned about the whole media black out surrounding Amity. Turns out, the reason the Justice League was ignoring them was entirely because they didn't even know they existed in the first place. It was a miracle that they even learned about a Hero Gala in Metropolis if it weren't for an invitation somehow making it to the Mansons Estate.

Fun fact. Even if the invitation made it to them. Once they did make it to the Gala location they learned that it had happened years ago. Well wasn't that just great, and here Danny had hoped to get some help and maybe meet Superman or better Martian Manhunter.

Slamming his head onto the table and gaining the attention of some other cafe visitors briefly. Danny only turned ever so slightly so that his cheek was squished against the cold table surface. Still refusing to look at Sam but instead watched Tucker who was by now frowning at his PDA.

"Guys, I think there is more to it than us being simple late a couple of years to a Gala." Blinking made a noise to ask him to elaborate while Sam verbally asked why.

"Things didn't add up when we first left Amity, aside from all your ghost rouges were even trying to make us stop leaving until the very last second. Look at this, this is a photocopy of our last news paper from home and this-" Tucker slit a paper across the table and pointed at a specific spot at the top of the paper so both Danny and Sam could see it clearly. "-is a news paper printed today from Metropolis."

"I don't get it." Danny honestly stated staring at the spot Tucker had pointed it. Sam proceeded to hit the back of his head lightly, apparently having seen what Tucker was pointing out to them.

"The dates are way too far apart." She stated and Danny blinked, looking back at the printed date and the date displayed in the image of Tuckers PDA. "Are you sure you didn't save up an older newspaper?"

Tucker gave him an unimpressed stare. "Look at the headline. That's the incident that happened right before we went on this trip."

"Okay but what does that mean?"

"From what it looks like. Amity Park lives in a time bubble. Our technology as well as date seems far behind from everything we saw ever since we left. Even my beloved PDA appears to be old technology here."

The tree sat in silence for a moment, mulling over what they had found out so far after leaving Amity for the first time. But now that they thought about that, Amity was a closed community. There were hardly any people coming in and out of their town. In addition the only one who had ever entered their city from the outside was Vlad and even he didn't talk much about any other cities or people he could possibly know outside of Amity.

"That's a pretty interesting topic you guys are talking about."

Startled, the three looked up to see a new face that had appeared out of nowhere and was spitting next to Sam. The boy with auburn hair and yellow eyes who looked only a bit older than them and was smiling brightly at them with a back of chips in his hands.

"So you guys lived in a time bubble? That sounds interesting, can you tell me more?"

A second later two black haired teens appeared next to the boy, one sheepish and in a punk style and the other frustrated and appearing to wear more formal clothing. The frustrated one eyed them for a moment and Danny caught his eyes, noticing the calculating look and couldn't help narrowing his own eyes on him.

"Sorry about my friend, he sometimes acts before he thinks."

"I have a friend like that too, don't worry." Tucker answered and Danny shot him a quick glare before turning his attention back to the three newcomers.

"We couldn't help but overhear what you guys were talking about. You missed your chance to go to a hero gala right?" The sheepish one said after exchanging a look with the other black haired teen and Danny couldn't help but feel like there was some silent communication going on. The same he had at times with Tucker.

"So what?" Sam huffed, not willing to talk about their woes and sharing information with strangers.

"We happened to be on our way to one that's not open to the public but we could help you get in. Granted, I would like to hear a little more about your situation and how you missed the one you originally wanted to go to." In other words, give us information and we will get you to somewhere where you can meet hero's. Danny narrowed his eyes further, there had to be more to this catch.

His distrust must have been visible as the formal clothing black haired teen let out a sigh. "Look we have experience with time shenanigans, so we might be able to get you into contact with people that can help, from Young Justice or maybe even the Justice League."

"No one just offers help like that, without getting something out of it." Sam huffed arms crossed and glaring at them. Tucker also eyed them with suspicion and Danny had yet to let up on his distrustful glare.

"Well we do. So common, the private gala is still going. We only escaped from it for a little bit to get this guy some coffee. It's not too late, let's go! We can figure out the whole time bubble thing on the way there!" The brightly smiling auburn haired answered instead bouncing in his seat next to Sam. Eager to have Danny and his friends come along.

Only way later did Danny learn that the three teens that snuck them into a privat Hero Gala were actual members of Young Justice but that was only after they figured out the whole Amity lives in a Time Bubble situation.

[sorchathered]

The Willows Never Stopped Weeping for You

Pairing-Tyler Owens x female OC (Olivia Wright)

Warnings- language, drinking, angst, death, injury, smut

Summary- Olivia let Tyler go to carry out his dreams, but broke his heart in the process. What happens when in the wreckage of a little small town he learns the real reason she left him, and how do they repair it?

A/N- we back at it again on the angst train, third week in a row lol!! I really loved this one, twisters was so good and I am excited to start writing for the fandom! As always, like, comment, reblog anything to let me know what you think!

“We’ve gotta get the hell out of dodge, we can’t sit here any longer Ty!” Dani is panicked, sweat dripping from their brow as they tremble, eyes wild and afraid of what will happen if they don’t make it out.

“I can’t- I can’t leave without her goddamnit and you know it, go ahead of me, you gotta trust me! We will make it out of here, get everyone to safety Dan, I’m serious get the hell out of here!” He yells over the roar of the wind, shoving them towards the rv and as much as it pains the crew, they know Tyler would die in this storm before he ever left Olivia behind. She was his everything, he’d loved her his whole life, and even if things were broken between them he would die a thousand times over to make sure she was safe.

——————————————————————

The crew had been up and down the state the past few weeks, working together with Javi and his crew to test out Kate’s theory and it had been one hell of a ride. They’d mostly been able to help keep the damage to a minimum, but as always with storms like these it was always a risk.

The little town on the outskirts of Enid had been ravaged more than once, but this storm seemed to be hell bent on taking whatever was left of the small community and turning it to rubble. So many injured, and so many homes and businesses destroyed, it seemed like a no-brainer that the government would send aid relief workers to help repair the damage, but what Tyler Owens hadn’t foreseen was the bright green eyes and auburn hair of his first love as he helped people in the aftermath.

Olivia Wright had been his everything since he was fourteen years old, occupied every one of his dirty fantasies and dreams of the future. He’d never been more sure of anyone in his life, until they’d crashed and burned so spectacularly shortly after college. He’d fallen in love with storm chasing, his dreams of working for the NWS had turned into something else entirely as he and the crew of misfits he migrated to became more and more obsessed with the beauty and danger these storms brought.

Liv had their whole future planned, finish college, get married. Ty would work for the NWS and she would become a nurse, fulfilling your passion to help people and getting to be by his side while he pursued his passion for meteorology. The two of them were growing apart, everyone could see it but him, and she knew she’d have to be the one to let go, he was always bigger than the whole sky and Liv couldn’t bear to keep him down. So she broke his heart and her own, and in that time she watched him flourish. His channel and all of his friends, the articles written about his discoveries, she watched it all with rapt attention, he was living out his dreams and Liv couldn’t have been more proud. Eventually she had to decide what was best for her, and watching storms ravage communities just like hers in Arkansas became too much to bear, working in disaster relief and helping to save lives became her passion, she kept her head down and let the work take over, but never lost hope that one day she’d run smack dab into that man that was as wild as the western wind.

It had happened less like a rom com and more like a horror movie, he’d seen her first and lost his cool immediately, ducking under an awning and scrambling to find somewhere, anywhere else to be but near her. Lily, who had been both of their friends in college couldn’t quite figure out what the hell was wrong with him, but it didn’t take long to spot her bright hair and the FEMA t-shirt Liv was sporting as she handed out water to a group not far from theirs.

“Oh my God is that my Livvy?!” She shrieked as she ran for her friend, the two of them erupting in giggles and swaying each other in the midst of the debris-covered road.

“Lily bug!! Oh my goodness what are y’all doing here?! I thought from your last video you guys were over near Lawton!” She said, smacking a hand over her mouth as she realized she’d given herself away already.

“Ooh so you have been watching hmm? Come say hi to everyone cutie pie, it’s been too long and we need to catch up.” She pulled her along but Liv tried to dig her heels in, wild green eyes panicked.

“I can’t intrude Lils, and I don’t want to make Tyler uncomfortable, I’m sure he doesn’t want to see me” she says as she puts both hands up in surrender but Lily is having none of it.

“Nope, you don’t get to pussy out Olivia, life is too short and you know it. Now come on! I want to hear all about your life, and Dani makes some bomb ass burritos so you should try to eat something, it’s gonna be a long day babygirl.

————————————————————-

He somehow manages to avoid her like the plague all day, catching glimpses here and there but mostly staying close to Kate and Javi, much to Lily's frustration if the glares she’s cut at him all afternoon are any indication.

Livvy wasn’t quite sure what to make of it; she had been watching them for so long online that she felt like she knew the crew personally, they were some of the kindest people she’d ever met and it wasn’t lost on her that all of them had been brought together by Ty. He’d made himself a family, it was just another thing that she had missed her chance on and she couldn’t help but feel a little emotional over it.

When Kate had come over to introduce herself later in the evening, it had been obvious to Olivia that she and Tyler had something going on. It was hard to dislike her, she was beautiful and kind, and smart as a whip from what Liv could tell. Definitely perfect for him, so after a while of watching them all interact and being all but ignored by her oldest friend, it got to be too much and she found a way to make her escape, using an early morning as an excuse and holing up in her motel room to lick her wounds and cry.

Lily chases after her with another nasty glare in Tyler’s direction, everyone had questions now and he couldn’t give them, waving them off with a middle finger as he stumbled through the parking lot, a little tipsy and feeling an ache in his chest that he’d thought he’d healed from.

“Liv! Stop damnit, I know this shit is hard but just talk to me honey, tell me.” Lily shouts into the crowded lot and watches her friend's shoulders sag as she turns with tears sliding down her cheeks.

“Oh Lily.” She lets out a ragged breath and lets it all wash over her, everything she’s left unsaid and held deep inside. “I could never deny him happiness, if it’s not with me that’s OK, it’s been a long time and I’ve learned to accept it. If Kate makes him happy then of course I want that for him. I never stopped loving him, so of course I would always want what’s best for him. It wasn’t right back then Lily, that kinda love was unpredictable. We were growing together like two gnarled trees, neither of us were helping the other reach our potential and I had to let him go so we didn’t end up hating each other. “ A shudder runs through her at the declaration, tears are threatening to seep from her eyes but she won’t give them the satisfaction.

“That sounds like horseshit and you know it” Lily says she jabs her finger into Liv’s shoulder, her eyes are full of fire. Liv knows she means well, she’s always been a good man in the storm, someone you want in your corner when things get hard which is why she’s so glad that Tyler has her. Liv lets her shoulders sag and look at Lily full of defeat.

“I can’t change it now, even if I wish I could.”

“Do you wish you could?” She says with raised eyebrow and Olivia gives her a little nod.

“Every day. I miss him every day.” Tears well up in her eyes and she shivers as the wind blows through the camp, but she won’t let the pain overtake her, she made her choice and she can only hope that he’ll be happy.

Olivia doesn’t see it but Lily does, Tyler is half hidden behind the RV, he’s heard it all and she watches as his face goes from grief stricken to angry turning on his heel as he walks off into the dark, the weight of her confession breaking his heart all over again.

—————————————————

He paces the concrete hallway of the motel for what feels like hours, letting the weight of what she said run over him. Had he really been so blind? Olivia hadn’t wanted to let him go, and he’d never thought to question it when she pushed him away. He had been hurt and stubborn, shutting down immediately and saying some of the meanest things he could hurl at her to hurt her back. In hindsight he should have known she was just trying to give him the ability to do what he wanted, but just the fact that she had convinced herself that she was what was holding him back made a fire rage in him. Sure it would have been hard to manage, but they could’ve handled it! They could handle anything together, he’d always told her that, why she would have ever thought otherwise was something he couldn’t reconcile with.

He was at her door before he could stop himself, rapping sharply on the peeling metal and praying that she would listen. The sounds of the lock being undone told him she was still awake, the door swinging open to reveal her puffy tear stained face, hair up in a messy knot on her head and an oversized t shirt full of holes, one that had definitely belonged to him.

“Why are you here Ty? You’d had all day to say something to me, and you waited until midnight?” She said with a sniffle, there was no point in trying to hide what she’d been doing, it was all over her face and his heart clenched in his chest knowing he’d hurt her again.

“You didn’t want us to end, did you?” He said gruffly, he wasn’t leaving until he got his answers, he needed to know the truth.

“What does it matter now? You’re with Kate-“ she said as more tears formed, arms wrapped tightly around her waist as though she was trying to hold herself together.

“I’m not. We tried it, but she’s got her own demons to work out, and we agreed it would be better to be friends. Answer my question baby, I need to hear it. Do you still want me?” He was leaning in close to the door frame now, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body and smell the beer on his breath. Liv let out a ragged breath and nodded, that was all he needed to push the door the rest of the way open and pull her into his arms, kicking the door shut behind him as he pressed kisses to her cheek and neck while she held on for dear life. Sobs wracked her body as he sat down on the creeky mattress, pulling her into his lap as he rocked her side to side.

“My sweet girl” he murmured into her hair, he let her cry it all out until she relaxed in his grip, tipping her chin up to look at him as he stroked her cheek.

“I never stopped hoping for this, I didn’t want to hold you back but- I can’t stay away anymore. I-I love you Ty, I always will.” She stuttered and he let out a groan as he pressed his mouth to hers, flipping them both so she was on her back and spread out for him, she’d been the star of every fantasy he’d ever had, and nothing would ever be as good as the real thing.

“I never stopped either Livvy girl, can I have you? Please baby I- I need it, need to show you how much I missed you.” He looks wrecked, hair a mess and eyes wild, and she can’t stop herself from pulling him down to her, licking into his mouth and running her hands over his broad shoulders, watching him shiver in her embrace as he grinds down into her.

They make up for all the time lost, re-learning each other's bodies until the early morning, finally coming up for air when Tyler’s phone begins to go off with weather alerts and texts from Boone.

“Looks like there’s another cell coming this way, we need to get these people to safety while we can.” He says with a sigh as he rolls his body off of hers, she’s sated and happy as she stretches her limbs like a cat and moans, he feels himself twitch in his boxers as he watches her. She’s like a siren, calling him back to her and he wants nothing more to than to stay right here between the sheets and ravage her again.

“Stop looking at me like that Owens, or we’ll never get out of here in time” she playfully punches his chest and he lets out a hearty laugh, they’d have plenty of time to talk and catch up, he wouldn’t be letting her out of his sight anytime soon.

“Ok, ok sugar, let’s get back out here, storms a comin’ and times a wastin’.”

——————————————————————-

He should have known. He should have known they’d never get that lucky, especially knowing how unpredictable the storms had been this season.

They thought they’d had more time, weather warnings saying the tornado would likely just pass the town, but it had all gone wrong. What had started out as one had turned into two, splitting off and causing maximum damage to what was left of the area. He’d lost Liv and Boone somewhere along the way, Kate and Javi and the rest of the crew were safely out of danger, but somehow the twister had gotten between his truck and yours, and when the dust had settled you and Boone were nowhere to be found.

He was sick, bile crawling up his throat as he trembled, they’d been searching the perimeter when he’d heard Boone screaming for help, tearing through the field of corn to find your upturned truck, mangled and covered in broken glass. Boone had tried his best to pull you from the wreckage, but his shoulder was mangled; most likely dislocated from the crude angle it hung from.

Tyler pulled Olivia’s limp body out and heard a sharp gasp from her, she was alive, that was good. At least that was what he thought until he got her in his arms and saw the jagged shrapnel wedged in her abdomen, blood flowing like a water hose from the wound, way too much to be a minor wound. She kept lolling her head back and forth as she tried to lift her hand to his face, god there was blood everywhere, he couldn’t take the metal out, what if that made it worse? He yelled for Boone to give him his shirt, tears pouring from his eyes as he tried to stop the bleeding, but it just wouldn’t stop coming.

“Livvy, baby look at me ok?” He says with a gentle pat to her cheek, her eyes keep rolling around in her head as she tries to focus on something, anything, but she just can’t seem to get there.

Finally she seems to see him through her unfocused bloodshot eyes, a small victory and he breathes for the first time since he found her.

“Oh god, Ty there’s so much blood! What happened? Are- are you ok? How do we stop it? We need help!” She cries out as her body shakes in his arms, she’s going into shock and bleeding to death but is still selfless to the end, always worried about everyone but herself.

He’s sobbing so hard now he can hardly speak, just kissing whatever skin he can get to as he holds her tightly, still pressing hard into the gaping wound despite knowing it won’t do anything to stop the inevitable. He’s going to lose her, and he just got her back.

A scream comes from somewhere, Tyler jolting awake from the world’s most uncomfortable hospital chair. He’s drenched in sweat, and his neck aches, as he looks around the dimly lit room he realizes the scream came from him. He’s replayed that awful night over and over for the past three days, it ends with Olivia choking on her own blood as she fades away and he can’t seem to make his brain understand that while it definitely happened that way, the end result wasn’t quite so gruesome. She’s alive, unconscious, but alive. How EMS found them in time will consume his thoughts for a good long while. He’d been so sure he’d lost her but the miracles just kept coming because somehow the doctors were able to save her and had assured him that though recovery would be long and hard she would in fact recover.

—————————————————————

Months later he would still be convinced it was all just a dream, the nightmares had ceased but the jagged scar along Olivia’s sternum would always be there to remind him of how close he’d come to losing it all.

He lived for chasing storms, he’d convinced himself it was everything he’d ever need after she’d left, but he’d been so wrong.

She’d never ask him to give it up, but he didn’t know if he could continue to run after something that had nearly taken everything from him. He and Kate took a job consulting with the NWS on her research after Ben’s article got traction, and he left his truck to Boone to continue the legacy and the channel. He wanted to prevent the storms from happening before they started and he knew with Kate’s research and the grants from the government they could really dig in and make a difference.

He asked her to marry him on her birthday, 6 months after the accident and she’d said yes before he could even finish his speech. The future hadn’t been linear like he thought, he didn’t have to accept what he thought he deserved and finally allowed himself to accept what he wanted. Olivia Wright Owens sounded damn good to him, and maybe one day a house full of babies. Yeah he could definitely make that his new dream.

Tagging- @sailor-aviator @goldenseresinretriever @hangmanapologist @roosterforme @trickphotography2 @mynameismckenziemae @seitmai @sebsxphia @im-just-ken @kmc1989 @jessicab1991 @dizzybee03 @nouis-bum @attapullman @bobgasm @floydsglasses @withahappyrefrain

[pedge-page]

You Please, My Pleasure

Sub! Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings: Sub!Joel, Mommy kink, cowgirl/riding, orgasm denial, over stimulation, unprotected sex, cream pie, orgasm control, reader’s hand makes a pretty necklace for Joel, themes of free use, objectification, praising words for Joel (sweet boy, etc), bitty breeding kink at end

18+ ONLY

- - - -

You sat In a community table at the cafeteria, over hearing a group of other women chattering about the men they'd been eying up:

"You seen that Joel Miller around?"

"Oh, he's hot as hell. I dont care how old he is."

"So protective, and strong, and firm. Jesus just look at him those broad, muscled shoulders and back. Bet he's a wild night."

"Shhh!"

"Im serious! The lucky girls he's probably pleasing..."

'Did you you hear he's apparently great with a gun."

He could ram his big gun in me any day."

"Shut up Claire! Oh my god."

"I just know it. Bet he could make you ache for days. Half the men here wouldn't compare to a guy like Joel in bed. I just have my own fingers to keep me barely satisfied, dreaming about a hunk like that."

"What about you?"

You hear your own named piped up, apparently leaning too far in to their conversation and now finding yourself included.

"Oh." You glance at the clock behind them, realizing you had to get back to your house instead of listening to the lady gossip of the town. "Luckily I just have my own toy to come home to..." and you escuse yourself with a gentle smile.

-

There was something beautiful about watching a strong, built, capable man like Joel Miller absolutely fall apart under you. The way his high pitched moans bounce within the confines of your bedroom, not one secret of his confessions ever leaving the safety of these four walls. His flush skin adorned in bright claw marks, almost a way of claiming him under those rugged clothes. His stomach tensing then releasing with each breathy pant, eyes rolling as he tries to hold on to the little control he has over his orgasms.

An unearthly sight. Just for you.

“Ah—ahh fuck!” He cries. Joel’s hips crash up against yours, shaking as he concentrates on starving off his orgasm.

You slow the rocking of your hips to gentle glides, your palm caressing the stubble of his cheek. “Shhhhhh, I know. I know. You’re bein’ so good tonight, baby.”

He nods with furrowed brows, eyes closed and head thrown back into the soft white pillow. His beautiful brown curls splayed out on the satin case like a god. “I’m—I’m bein’ so good,” he repeats, swallowing the lump in his throat as he feels himself regaining composure over the tight coil wound in his stomach.

“That’s right. That’s my good boy,” you praise. 

You start a slow rhythm again, softly bouncing on his thick cock that’s been teetering on the edge for an hour now, buried snugly in your suffocating pussy. 

“Good boy,” you coo again. “Mommy never leaves your aching cock neglected, huh? Let you live in my warm sopping pussy all day and night.”

“mmmm—yeah—yes Ma’am. Treatin’ me—s’good.”

You’ve trapped his body, your knees caging him between your legs. You can feel the tense quivers in his spread thighs, unable to do much as your ankles have wrapped back over the meat of them, pinning him below you. He can’t fuck up, can’t squirm. If he wanted to throw you off him, there’s no doubt the immense strength in him could. But he doesn’t. 

His hands are on your waist reassuringly, only to remind himself that you’re still here, guiding him through it. He’s gotten so much better at not taking back control, relinquishing his mind, body, and soul to you.

You feel the steady twitch of him inside you, dragging so deliciously along your walls, taking full advantage of his girth pushing to the crest of your womb. “You’re the best cock I’ve ever cum on.”

“Hahhhh, oohhhhhgggghhhh, tha—oh f-fuck!—thank you—“ he can’t help the slight canter of his own pelvis rolling up into you, brushing his tip along your cervix. “Thank you, Mommy. I—You feel so good—I feel—feel amazing, sweetheart. J-Jesus fuck. Love—love your tight pussy—choking’ my cock. Usin’—usin’ me.”

“Yeah? You like being my fucktoy?” The hand on his face slow glides to his mouth, your thumb hooking on the side and tugging before letting it spring back to place. You then push your fingers around his thick throat, the other hand planting firmly on his plush chest to hold you up. You don’t crush his neck, only leave your touch there as a warning. You ass slams down harshly on his fat cock, making him hiss, encouraging the new rough fucking you’re giving him. The room fills with the obscene slapping of skin against skin as you ride him harder.

“Yeah—yeah! Ye—ah fuck—fuck yes!” He croaks, teeth gritting as he stares you down with hooded eyes. “I l-love bein’ your little fuck stick. Comin’ home n’ fuckin’ me, fuckmefuckmefuckme!—turning’ me into y-your personal dildo. FUckMommy, yeah!”

His tongue sticks out, smiling hazily as his neck arches, head thrown further back, pushing him into your touch. He looked so fucking pretty wrapped around your fingers.

He doesn’t realize his hands have grasped at your breasts, squeezing them in his big hands. 

“Look at me,” you command, breathless yet still pulling your authoritative voice over him. His head snaps back, watching the way your body glistens on top of him with each bounce. Your hips were practically flush together, grinding down on him with precision. “Did I say you could touch my tits?”

He retracts his hands immediately, returning to their rightful place on your hips. “N-No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry Mommy, please.”

You tighten your grip around his throat. “You live— for my pleasure.”

He lets out a guttural groan from deep within his chest. “Yeah—yeah fu—oh fuck, shit—yes Mommy! squeezing’ me so tight, m’just for you, all yours, want you to feel so fuckin’ good, mmmm—” He’s nodding quickly, little wailing growls growing louder as you crash your pussy down on his weeping length over and over again. His lips are parted, fast short breaths being forced out as he feels his pleasure climbing.

“That’s right,” you pant, lost in the prickling feeling of your clit snagging against his pubic hair, smothering your throbbing nub.

“Nnffmmmm—I’m—I’m gonna cum, Mommy. Please, please tell me I can cum,” he whines.

You stop your hips entirely, ignoring the way his face curls into anguish and cries out pathetically. His body is shaking violently under you with the denial.

 You laugh wickedly in his face. “No, nonono, sweet boy.” You let him continue to whimper and quiver below, his cock twitching between your folds. You lean down and grip his hair, kissing him with your tongue invading his lips like a serpent in a rabbits den. You suck his bottom lip before pressing your foreheads together, rolling into a slow, devastating grind that has him seizing in near pain under you.

“I still want more cock.” 

Joel elicits a small whimper, reducing himself to nodding again. You cup around his cheek once more, a loving, natural tone slipping out of you. “Can you do that for me?”

 “Y-yes. Yes.” He coughs obediently, voice strained beyond recognition. 

You sit back up, both of your hands digging into his chest and start riding him more aggressively again. “Fuck me like you want to give me more cock.”

He gasps out a pained yelp. Joel’s beefy fingers clench your sides, nails pinching into your lower back. His knees bent, feet planted wide apart digging into the mattress to thrust up into you. He fucks you with vigor, ignoring his own pleasure too rapidly building inside him again in exchange to watch your tits bounce, hear your gorgeous voice flood the air with each powerful ram. 

“Ugh—oh yeah, baby that’s it!” You cry, tilting your head up to the ceiling. “Fuck me, fuck me so good, baby!”

But his hips are rutting too high, too fast, breath coming out too shallow. “Oh—oh god, I’m gonna—Mommy fuck I can’t! I can’t stop, I’m gonna—!”

“Don’t you dare fucking cum, Joel,” you snap. Your pussy contracts around the width of his cock in a death grip, unable to stop the aggressive back and forth grind as you chase your orgasm.

He’s shaking his head, eyes squeezed shut as you start to cum around him. 

“Oh f-fuCK I can’t—ICAN’T!—I’m—FUCKfuck!—“ His balls draw tight as he releases thick spurts of his seed, load after load filling your convulsing cunt as he forces out harsh pants through clenched teeth—“Mommy I’m sorry! I’m cumming! I can’t stop—I can’t stop fuckin’ cummin—ohjesus I’M CUMMING.” He’s absolutely pouring buckets, each throb of his cock inside you pushes more cum deep into your convulsing womb. The two of you are moaning together in high tune, though his even more desperate, slightly pained after being denied all night.

You settle before he does, eerily quiet atop him as his staggered breaths and fluttering chest calms. When the fog in his mind clears, his eyes fly open, shame washing over him at what he’d done.

“M-Mommy I—“

But you don’t listen, slowly driving back down with his spent cock sloshing in and out of your drenched cunt.

“Ah!” He yells, fingers tightening around your waist in a plea to stop the overstimulation. You yank his wrists off of you and pin them above his head. With each rock of your hips, you feel his stomach tensing and releasing, unsure of the overburdening sensation you’re forcing on his poor dick.

“mmmfffff—nnoo, Mommy, No more, please!”

You still ignore him, rutting your ass back down on his dick now that it’s fully erected again. His seed spills down the base of his cock, wet slaps overlapping with his pathetic pants.

“AURRgghhHH!! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He begs. “I’m—Mommy—fuck—fuck I can’t!”

“You can and you will.” You state plainly, pace continuing without falter.

His shaking digits desperately try to collide with the death grip around his wrists. “Please, please, how can I make it up to you??”

You smile inwardly. The desperation in his hoarse yet sweet voice, his shaking limps both squirming away and subconsciously thrusting back up in to your tight heat, more, less, more, he’s so unsure of the overstimulation wracking his bones. You liked this Joel. You want to keep this Joel. 

And he knows. 

“We’re not done until you fuck a baby in me.”

- - - -

Permanent Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ wing damage, chapter one (mv1)

Eldest of the Halliwell girls, Y/n (or Nadine) gets her heart broken by the man she’s supposed to wed in six months. Four years of love slipping down the drain faster than she can try and grasp at the remaining water droplets.

But... not all hope is lost as far as the f1 community is concerned and they might be right, since Max seems to be trying to get a little closer to his team owners eldest daughter.

max verstappen x influencer!halliwell!reader / fc: sophia la corte (and various ginger women on pinterest.)

warnings & notes: cheating, mentions of alcohol, small age gap (24-27), strong language, probably inaccurate f1 information, using a name as a placeholder for y/n bc i’m not typing that every time, dates are off by two days in the beginning. deal.

EDIT: I love nadine too much to scrap her story even tho christians a BITCH, so for all intents and purposes in this fic, congrats! a spice girl now owns oracle red bull racing 😭

(part two!)

“Do you want me to confront him?” Max asks, sitting down next to me in the paddock. His hand comes to squeeze my knee, my father rubbing my back as he deletes every photo—every memory of Jacob Taylor from my phone.

Four years down the drain.

My friends back home at my apartment are currently bagging up his stuff. Both Mona and Ally will move in with me, just like college again, once his stuff is empty. My bare apartment will soon be filled with our old nick nacks but i can hardly be happy about it.

Cheated.

The man who spent 50k on an emerald cut four karat ring with a real gold band, cheated? The man who cried when his mom told him she loved me, cheated? The man who cancelled an entire film set because it conflicted with my schedule, cheated? The man who won over the hearts of not only Geri Horner, but Christian Horner? He was the one who cheated?

Jacob was (strong emphasis on the was) the highest standard I ever held. Now, I didn’t even know what standards to have anymore. Anyone could be a cheater. I never stood a chance.

“It’s fine, Max.” I say softly, wiping at my face again to try and make it look less like I’ve been sobbing since I found out as soon as the plane touched down two days ago. The paddock is buzzing, qualifiers getting ready to start for the first GP. The warm Bahraini sun beats down on the track and I can see the heat wiggling above it. Even in March it’s as hot as summer over here, and part of me misses the gloomy, smoggy streets of London right now.

“It’s not fine!” Max groans at me, throwing his head back in exclamation. I know he’s sick and tired of hearing me say it for the thousandth time, but if I say it’s not fine, I’ll break down. And we can’t have that.

“Max,” GP's voice calls before Max can go on another tirade about killing Jacob. Max turns and I can see the hesitance in him to leave my side. He’s been like this since I met him the first day he raced with Red Bull years back—instantly the two of us clicked. When the days got hard, or his dad got on his back a bit too much, I would appear by his side and with a tiny smile somehow I'd fix everything. After I became his sort of 'chauffeur' when one of our drivers got sick in Abu Dhabi his first year, and we got stuck in an hour of traffic with nothing to do but talk, we became basically glued to each others sides.

I think having my unwavering support made a lot of the transition into Red Bull easier for him. And in moments like these, where he's watching me with a keen eye, I don’t know how I lived so long without his calm presence at my side. I was only a five years old when my Mom bought Red Bull Racing, it’s been my entire life, and every racer who has passed through our team has never stuck to my side like Max Verstappen has.

“Go.” I nudge his knee when I see his hand twitch and hover by his helmet, eyes darting to me and then GP who waits in the doorway, so I supply, “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Max nods, giving me a departing hug before he gets up and starts tugging his racing suit on. Immediately my mother replaces him, turning my head to card his hands through my hair.

“Oh, honey.” Geri coos, squeezing my arms as she lets me lean into her, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong, Mama.” I sigh, leaning into him and letting his wrap his arms tight around me.

“No, I trusted that boy. That’s what I did wrong.” She says back, before handing me back my phone. We sit like that for a long time, people passing us without asking. Everyone knew. I had found out the same way they all did—on social media. Jacob didn’t even have the balls to tell me himself. Fucking coward.

Eventually someone calls my mother away for some celebrity, sp I force myself to sulk off to a hidden corner where I can munch on chocolates and watch Max from a little tv. Not as good as my usual perch next to my Mom, but I don’t need the public seeing me the day I find out my fiancé of several years had been cheating almost the whole time. With his co-star.

Fucking hell.

nadinehalliwell

liked by maxverstappen, danielricciardo, charlesleclerc, and 124k others...

nadinehalliwell: before and after max won

tagged: bbhalliwell

gerihalliwell: love u lots mini ginger spice!!!!

⤷ nadinehalliwell: mama ill cry </3

charlesleclerc: maman says hello and that she will have wine for you when you come to monaco

⤷ arthurleclec: nadine you are very beautiful do not let a man win -- maman

⤷ thenadinehorner: OMGGGG <3<3<3 XOXO MAMAN JE VOUS AIME TELLEMENT

bbhalliwell: bahrain was NOT ready for the halliwell girls !!

maxverstappen: you and your sister together is recipe for disaster

⤷ danielricciardo: bet they're planning ur downfall.

⤷ nadinehalliwell: beware both of u 🔪

I knew returning home to my apartment was going to be hard. I had spent a few days with my mom and Bluebell home in Nottingham.

Being in my mothers had been refreshing enough to start and heal my heart. I also learned that my mom was really fucking good at healing, it involved a lot of wine and a lot of cursing.

My apartment in Monaco had been a home full of happy memories of moving in with Jacob, and our time living together everyday I wasn’t at grand prixs and he wasn’t on set. Memories of our families and friends together with us, and now it would be just me.

So empty. Alone. White walls with no decorations anymore. Just staring at me, closing in slowly.

Opening the door I sucked in a breath of pure agony. My mother's warm hand around my shoulder a soft reminder that even if I felt abandoned, I wasn’t alone. Not by a long shot. And as the door clicks open, my hand finds the lights instinctually, and my eyes widen to dinner plates.

“Welcome home!” a chorus cheers and I laugh, all my of old friends circled around the end of the foyers hallway, wine glasses and soju bottles in hand. I can’t even speak as tears fill my eyes and the girls run to me, waving my mother off. She kisses my hairline, tells me she'll text me when she gets home, and shuts the door as my friends cart me into the kitchen and wipe my tears and fix up my messy hair with giggles.

“Tonight!” One of my friends—eventually I source the drunken giggles to Ally, “we will make you so hot and sexy, he will regret it.”

“And if he comes crawling back!” It’s Mona now.

“We will rip his dick off!” Marija shouts and the girls raise shots to me.

“Guys—what is all of this?” I can’t help but laugh, and then the three look at each other and smile.

“So… you’ve heard of a revenge dress, right?” Ally says slowly, and it all clicks.

nadinehalliwell

liked by maxverstappen, charlesleclerc, christianhorner and 976k others..

nadinehalliwell: ‘little black dress, who you doin it for?’ 🖤

tagged: monanotlisa, allycameragirl, marijaswrld

maxverstappen: Is this that ‘hot girl era’ thing?

⤷ charlesleclerc: i think so.

monanotlisa: absolutely sexy. as per usual.

allycameragirl: FUCKKK UR HOT 🖤🖤

landonorris: one direction???

⤷ nadinehalliwell: ofc you know it’s one direction.

⤷ landonorris: cannot tell if this is a compliment or not but thanks ?

marijaswrld: 🧎‍♀️ < me

[ghouldtime]

Ghost'ed

Been thinking about literal Ghost! Ghost. Maybe it's playing too many ghost hunting games or watching too many shows but I cannot stop thinking about it. You also cannot convince me this man wouldn't be a restless spirit. His entire life is troubled and I don't see him going down in a peaceful way or leaving until he feels the job is done - and likely ending up trapped as a result

I wrote this at work so sorry in advance for any typos or slip ups!

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Ghost hunting wasn’t exactly what most people would list in "Top ten relaxing hobbies" - but it's not like you were most people. You were simply you. The same you who thought spending your time speculating about spooky specters was one of the best ways to pass by those few stretches of free time that could be all too fleeting in the hellscape known as adulthood.

The stares that followed you when you announced paranormal investigation as a hobby was something you knew all too well. After all, telling someone you’re a ghost hunter only stood as a slightly more socially acceptable version of telling them you believed in bigfoot (you did, but that’s beside the point). The dozens of cheesy TV shows certainly popularized it but they did little to help with the perception of it.

When the face of popular ghost hunting media was full of grown men who screamed like a squirrel high on helium at every little thump of a house settling, it did little to help what people automatically thought of when they heard of your unique hobby. Plenty still turned their noses up, scoffed slightly as they rolled their eyes and sneered, “Aren’t you too old to be doing that?” 

Or worse. They gave a tight-lipped smile, nodded, and crinkled their eyes as they said, "Oh, interesting." While the tension in their body told of holding back laughter or wanting to bolt right on out of there, far far away from you.

Quite frankly, you didn't care what they said anymore as it was your life to live, not theirs. You’d seen enough to know without a fraction of a doubt that there was more beyond the veil of life itself, hiding just out of sight. The hundreds of hours you spent wandering dark hallways and dilapidated ruins with nothing but your flashlight and ghost box proved otherwise. At least it proved it to you.

Proving it to others was a horse of another color. Skeptics who spit their criticism loud enough to deafen even the most positive prevalent of voices in the community were a dime a dozen. Unfortunately, their existence was as certain as the sky is blue. Skepticism was apart of human nature, after all. They would always exist as long as the day and night kept up their eternal dance.

Convincing them was a fruitless effort. You'd sooner be able to convince hippos to fly than you'd convince them of the truth you knew. Trying to get everyone to agree, to acknowledge the paranormal, was hopeless and something you certainly weren't going to waste your life on no matter what they called your or what they said.

As far as you were concerned, being paid to sit in the dark alone and find evidence of life beyond the grimy waters of death itself was a pretty sweet gig. The naysayers could seethe in their own jealousy all they wanted because at the end of the day, you’re getting paid to do what you love. That they never could take away from you.

They'd never be able to have the same thrill that you did as you took on another case, ready to see even more of what the phantasmal realm had to offer.

Anticipation, nervousness, and excitement rolled together in a palpable energy you hid beneath a calmer exterior every time you took a job. There always would be that wonder there, the question of what exactly you might find dangling just out of reach, the hope that maybe, just maybe you might see even more than you already have. Another chance to investigate meant yet another night spent lurking in the shadows, tirelessly trying to find more evidence of the great world beyond the grave and its inhabitants. Tonight certainly would be no different.

An older couple quite reluctantly booked an appointment for a standard investigation after mysterious things that they really could not explain, no matter how they went about it, happened time and time again. They'd tried to ignore it, they said, but it only got worse.

Footsteps that echoed through the house at first in a gentle patter had become confident strides. When they went to look, no one was there. Doors that used to slowly creak open, as if blown by the wind, instead started to rattle the frame with force as they opened or slammed in the middle of the night. The husband looked particularly miffed when he groused about the TV going on at odd hours of the night, while his wife seemed more concerned about the possibility of someone having broken in and the fact that it kept doubling in intensity as time went on. The list went on and on about their complaints ranging from things being moved around to always finding a light turned on in a room in the middle of the night. There most certainly was something going on if all of what they were saying was true.

The glaring parade of red flags that easily would send others running for the hills lured you in. Like a dog with a scent, you weren't going to drop the trail, oh no. You were there to sink your teeth and claws in and not let go. Come hell, heaven, or high water - nothing would stopping you.

True to your title, you were a paranormal investigator which warranted a lot more work and professionalism than the standard ghost hunters you saw on TV who couldn't tell the difference between a gust of wind and a ghost. Your job was to research, conduct a proper paranormal investigation, and provide your evidence - or lack of, if it was truly devoid of haunting. But here hardly sounded like it.

Taking your time and reassuring them that you were, indeed, a professional, you went over all the usual questions with them: when did this start, how old is your house, any history of deaths in it, have you acquired any new items recently, do you have any items that were second hand or antique, any family heirlooms in the house, was it in any particular location, etc etc.

Every angle had to be considered, especially the mundane. Plenty of times, people just had a poorly constructed house, deeply held superstitions, and a touch of paranoia to make for a perfect combination of nothing happening at all. That didn’t seem to be the case here, however. While none of their answers pointed in a clear direction of what it might be, it still all pointed to signs of something unworldly happening. But that's what you were there for. To determine if there actually was a ghost, why it was there, and maybe who it was (if things went well and it felt like cooperating). 

You bid them a good night as they headed off with family friends in a beat up convertible, chattering away without a care in the world as if they didn’t have a paranormal parasite problem. At least they were going to go enjoy their night by having an evening out instead of breathing down your neck like some of those who hired you. Locking the door, you trudged in with your gear and began the initial inspection with practiced ease.

A haunting in a house as young and modern as theirs was quite unusual. Open, airy rooms completed with white, sleek, almost eye-hurtingly clean interiors made up the entirety of the house. Even as night crawled higher and higher into the sky, pulling its dark cloak over the land, the house stayed bright. Nothing about it said haunted or caught your eye. The scariest thing there was likely the heating bill. 

As far as your research showed, there hadn't been a death in it or on the land. The owners also seemed quite appalled at the idea of antiques (go figure) so that went right out the window, too. Normally there might be some stashed somewhere that they weren't thinking about, like the attic, but this house didn’t even have that. No basement, no attic, no creepy graveyard in the back; it was a normal, suburban house that shouldn’t have anything going on.

Perusing the house at a leisurely pace, you browsed each and every room with a thorough consciousness of finding something, anything, that could possibly have started it. Yet you turned up empty handed. Everything was as pure and alabaster as the marble countertops and the expensive sleek metal furniture. 

Oh well, not every job would be easy. And not every haunted house was obligated to look run-down and rustic. Some ghosts just had more upper class tastes - or were unfortunate enough to be stuck in an eyesore like this. Maybe a ghost would add some actual personality to their home...

Seeing as they'd said there wasn't exactly a rhyme or reason as to where things would happen, you decided a central room was your best bet. The living room was open enough for everything and an easy place any spirits could find. It had plenty of room for your equipment and the open layout meant you had a great vantage point for the whole house.

Preparing your gear came as naturally as breathing to you, the tasks you've done dozens of times over were a matter of habit. Moving through the motions was your second nature as you worked, not batting an eye as you checked batteries and strategically stationed your gear. It only took a matter of minutes to have your cameras, light system, motion activated interactable objects, ghost box, and the rest of your fancy gadgets set up all around the room.

Placed on the coffee table was your heaviest piece of equipment - your modified spirit box that you had made some special adjustments to just to make sure your results were as accurate as possible. The broken antenna and attached amp weren't standard, nor were the noise reducers, but they stood as a testament to why you were a professional and why you kept getting called out to different places. You knew how to get results and tuned every tiny thing to your needs. There was no room for error or doubt alike in an already uncertain field.

Double checking everything was ready to go once more once more, you plunged the room into somewhat true darkness as you drew the curtains shut and pressed the button on the spirit box, causing it to crackle to life. Speeding through the static of radio stations, it scanned the many frequencies in a blur, far too fast for any natural noise to come through. The whirring of it evened out into a constant, muffled background noise that you’d spent countless hours listening to. Its familiar hum lulled you into a relaxed state, your heart as steady as your calm breaths despite the slight buzz of familiar adrenaline you always felt when you first started. A small beep signaled the successful activation of the digital thermometer as you walked around in a slow, even pace, checking all around. 

Taking a deep breath, you began as you always had. In a confident, but even tone you called out, “Is there anyone with me right now?”

....

........

Silence.

The static of the spirit box continued to filter through in its usual constant churning hum of white noise. Typical. Many supernatural beings wouldn't want to interact, especially not at first. You don't blame them. If a stranger barged into your house and demanded if you were there, pestering you with questions as threw their belongings around, you'd not want to answer them either. That wasn’t even considering that many were so unused to people hearing them or trying to talk to them, not at them. They didn't exactly register on the same frequency that humans did most of the time.

Walking around the room, your boots echoed on the tile flooring. Your footsteps ricocheted off of the high ceilings, amplified by the lofty ceiling and wonderful acoustics this house apparently had. Keeping your attention ever shifting, you kept alert for signs of anything happening. Looking too long in the dark and expecting things to happen would only yield false results and cause paranoia. You knew far better than to do that. 

Nothing lit up, nothing beeped, nothing changed. There was conclusively nothing happening for the first few, long minutes as everything kept at an unwavering constant. Visiting each room, you rechecked their temperatures and tried to find anything amiss or out of place. Yet all seemed well, still, and normal.

Only when you crossed the hallway back into the living room after a quick visit to the bedrooms did your hair stand on end. A chill ran down your spine, the once warm air now holding the barest bite of cold on the edge. Holding up the thermometer, you narrowed your eyes at the steady decrease. While it wasn't quite freezing, it kept dropping and dropping. Numbers ticked lower and lower, your hair stood further on end as a small shiver ran through you as the chill dipped lower and lower. Bingo. First sign of activity of the night. It wasn’t much but it was plenty to know that something was happening here.

Despite the crisp chill, nothing else shifted in the room. Silence prevailed behind the distant drone of your equipment; mainly the comforting, steady typical static of the spirit box. Even the appliances seemed to have gone quiet, exchanging their usual low thrumming rhythm for a break that suspended them in a noiseless limbo.

Your shifting movements echoed far louder than you would have liked as you paced around the room, looking for something new, anything. An actual tangible reaction you could record would be just what you needed but so far, the haunt was holding out.  “What is your name?” You asked, keeping your voice as steady as you can as you tried to switch it up. 

Continual feedback from the spirit box sounded as steady as can be. Still, there was no voice trying to get through it. The fabricated noise reigned supreme as it did its job, whirring away. Pressing your lips into a thin line, the smallest hint of a frown tugged at your lips as disappointment flickered through you. Okay, that's fine. It usually took a few tries anyways. 

A faint, sparkling crackle escaped from it as you heard one, tiny word in a rumbling timbre. One, single word that halted you mid step, your head snapping towards the machine. 

“Ghost.”

Doing a double take, a grin split across your face as your heart jumped with joy. A response! A true, actual response. Not that it exactly answered your question but it meant something was listening.

There was something here!

Nearly tripping over your own feet, you scampered over to your beloved machine. Your eyes fixated on the glowing orange screen, gleaming with glee. 

“W-what’s your name?” You repeat a bit louder unable to hide the excited tremble in your voice or hands, figuring the ghost likely didn't hear you right. 

Static white noise continued for a few seconds, the little x in the corner flashed once, twice, before it lit up solidly. 

“Ghost.”

The smile you held dropped only for a fraction of a second before you cleared your throat. Well, maybe your slight stutter and excitement got in the way. You did talk fast when excited, after all. Taking a deep breath, undeterred as can be, you repeated in a far steadier voice, “What is your name?”

This time you made sure to enunciate every single syllable, speaking clear and confidently into the air. 

One flashing X glowed in the corner of the screen. Another flash. A third. Fourth. Fifth.

Yet again, the deep voice came a bit louder and rougher this time. A thick Mancunian accent that barely picked up through the filter didn't dull the single word you were trying to avoid, “Ghost.”

Okay. Your brows furrowed deeper, your nose wrinkling slightly as your heart sank. The minor disappointment couldn't be kept off of your face as you really had hoped to hear something else. Approach one clearly isn't working. 

Maybe he didn't speak English. Or maybe he wasn't sure that he was dead. Whatever. There was a ghost and he was answering, that's what mattered, you reminded yourself forcefully until the smile came back to your face and the smallest bit of a headache dissipated. Focus on that. Not on the slight annoyance you felt and the agitated twitch of your fingers.

Exhaling, you pursed your lips. Your grip retightened on your flashlight as you racked through questions in your mind, trying to find something that it would have to answer differently too. 

“Can you do something?”

Hopeful, your eyes trailed around the room, praying that maybe the ghost would do something like interact with the many objects scattered about, or even the motion sensors. 

Nothing happened for a few long moments, silence once again prevailing in the otherwise empty house.

Orange light flashed from the spirit box as the X lit up again, only for a second before the dreaded word repeated itself. 

“Ghost.”

Before you could ask what that even meant, or curse it out for that matter, the spirit box and your flashlight shut off, plunging you into true darkness. The flashlight nearly flew from your hands in surprise as you flinched instinctually, your heart leaping into your throat. Frantically flickering the button of your trusty tool did nothing as you desperately tried to turn on your one source of light with the only way you knew how - only to be met with the continual sight of empty, non-shining bulbs. 

Curses spilled from your lips in all the languages you knew as you fumbled for a battery pack, only to find them missing. What? But you swore that they were right there -- ugh, nevermind. This just wasn't going to be your night.

The initial panic subsided as the chill left the air, the residual regular warmth of the house sinking into the room as if blown in by a lazy breeze. Your hair still stood on end as you walked around with cautious, hesitant steps, having given up on the flashlight. There wasn't coming back from that.

It's only when you approached the spirit box, trying to turn it on to no avail, that you realized what he meant. You asked him to do something and he obliged.

He ghosted you. 

God fucking damn it. 

As you glared at the air in frustration, threw your hands up and personally cursed the fiend, you could've sworn you heard a resonating chuckle behind you as breath brushed against the nape of your neck in a way that sent shivers down your spine for a whole new reason.

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

01/15/2024 Crew Recap

Hey all, today has been a very very very long day. I’m typing this with my eyeballs glazed over and half open. However, so much has happened in such a little amount of time I wanted share a few things before I pass out I know a lot of you are in different timezones, are busy with life, and taking a break, so maybe this will help with parsing through some of the crazy stuff the crew has been up to.

The petition hit 50K, and is at 52.5K at the moment

Fundraisers: I didn’t even realize there were two different fundraisers for Palestine/Gaza going on but we blew both out of the water. (Note: the second picture is from a November campaign but I think its just as important to highlight— ty for the correction anon!)

The Emmys hashtag turn out was great tonight. There was some pretty amazing and creative stuff going on across all the platforms. Some can be seen on IG, but if you wanna see the majority of it, check out twitter #SaveOFMD #75thEmmys

---We have new ways of protesting and advocating for our show, see here for the thread on tumblr (from twitter):---

And to support that @saltpepperbeard was kind enough to put together a wonderful guide on how to Call It Through as a Crew: Alleviating Some Phone Anxiety which as someone who is socially anxious and sometimes verbally vomits on people when on the phone, is AMAZING and thank you so much for doing that to help.

-- > There is also this new thread on some new places to call into. Don't quote me on that being an official thing we should do, I'm sure @renewasacrew and others will have more in the AM, I just wanted to share it so people could follow if they wanted to.

------------------

New Articles!

Our Flag Means Death: Here’s why season three deserves to be aired

Petition to save BBC show with rare Rotten Tomatoes score gets 50,000 signatures

------------------

There's so much more that's happened today-- but I can't write it all down because my brain is couscous.

<---So instead, I'm going to use this last part to gush over you all and your amazing contributions in all your unique ways. The community support the last few days has been SO INCREDIBLY UPLIFTING.-->

I saw (and experienced) people reblogging asks where random followers, anons, and mutuals just reached out and sent love because they could tell people were struggling.

I've seen comments all over the place on Tumblr, IG, Twitter, and Facebook where each and every person is encouraging each other to speak their mind, or complimenting their artwork, encouraging them if they were feeling uncomfortable with things outside their comfort zones, coming up with new and exciting ways to fight back, people reaching out to the cast/crew just to say hi and remind them we love them.

I've seen Self-Care checkpoints all over, reminding people to drink water, take a break, block your notifications for a while, not engaging in negative behavior.

I've seen people being so nice on instagram posts that the people who were being dicks about all our comments turned around and decided to watch OFMD!

I saw so many people doing new analysis of scenes and characters, and having really deep and friendly discussions that make everyone think in new ways.

I saw people digging through old tumblrs to bring life back to old posts and artwork.

I saw so much NEW artwork, new FICS! New GIFS! So much new art and love!

I could literally go on and on, but I've just...I had to dump this out of my brain otherwise I'd explode. I've just seen so much today that continues to make me so proud of our little safe space ship and so happy to be apart of this community.

You all continue to be the best of the best of humans, and I am so very grateful to get to witness and be apart of it. Rest up lovelies and have a good day / night, wherever you may be. May you dream of sexy middle-aged gay men kissing, or hugging, or whatever else you want them to be getting into.

[cherriegyuu]

Way Back Home | jww

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader genre: angst, fluff towards the end word count: 6.3k summary: after twelve years apart, you finally meet wonwoo again

warnings: this fic is set in the early 2000's (around 2003) so that's why communication is a little complicated

requests are open

“So, did the two of you have fun playing this stupid game?” you said as you finally took the call. 

The phone in your hotel room had been ringing for hours now. You were sure that the receptionist hated you. They knew you were in the room but still refused to pick up the call, so Jeonghan had been calling nonstop.

“What are we talking about exactly? You know I’m not a great player at anything really,” Jeonghan said, the humor in his voice evident. The fact that he treated the whole situation as a joke angered you even further. 

You and Jeonghan met while you were still in college, during your final internship before graduation. He was the one you were supposed to report to, and you were his first intern. All of it was a mess from the start, but not too much apparently, as they hired you as a full-time employee and he was in charge of training all the new interns. 

Eventually, Jeonghan got tired of being bossed around and decided to leave. He asked you to work for him and you said yes. That was two years before. Jeonghan was your best friend, the one person you trusted with most aspects of your life. So the fact that he did that, that he send you there without letting you know what you’d find waiting for you, hurt more than you could put into words. 

“You know that coming here meant seeing Wonwoo again,” you murmured, the pain in your voice evident.

You couldn’t get the look on Wonwoo’s face out of your mind. As if it had been engraved in your brain, it played back again and again. He looked at you with pure anger, nothing more. While you felt hopeful and happy, all you felt coming from Wonwoo was hatred. 

The last time you saw him, the two of you were sixteen years old. The worse part of your teenage life and probably the worse year of high school for both of you, until that moment. You often found solace in each other’s arms, in the whispered words spoken in the darkest hours of the night. You were each other’s only friend, the only comfort in those years. He was your best friend, the entire reason you found any strength to get out of bed. He was your lifeline, your safe haven.

And then you had to leave him behind and go to a place that could have been a paradise for you, but you hated it with every fiber of your being. Because sure, that life was a living hell, but at least you had him. And then you didn’t have him anymore, and it didn’t matter how many times you tried to contact him. Phone calls, letters, driving to him. All of it. Everything you could think of. The same way you vanished, so did him.

But there he was, looking so much like the boy you remembered, but at the same time completely different. He was taller than the boy in your memory, the sprout years of a boy really hitting him hard after you left. You couldn’t help but wonder if that happened the summer your parents took you away, or if it was the year after that.

Did he make it to college like he wanted, an architecture degree like yours, or he went for something else? Did he even make it to college at all? Judging by the fact that he stood in front of you, the answer was yes to both questions.

But all the while you were happy, thrilled even, to see him, Wonwoo didn’t seem to share the same feeling. His eyes seemed warm and welcoming once he opened the door, but when he realized that it was you, his entire posture changed. His eyes turned cold and avoided yours.

“I thought it was something you wanted,” Jeonghan said softly, quickly realizing that the issue was much bigger than he anticipated. 

You sighed again, watching the bright pink socks on your feet. 

Seeing Wonwoo again, after so many years, was something you had dreamed of and desired, but not without any sort of preparation. You needed time to think of something to say, how to approach him. Truthfully, you had thought about it so many times, had even thought about it the night you boarded the plane to go to him. But once he was in front of you, you froze in place and everything happened in the exact opposite way of what you expected and wished for. 

“It was, but I don’t think it’s something he wanted, Jeonghan. A relationship, in whichever shape or form, needs two people. Although I wanted something like this, to reconnect and maybe even try to be friends again, he needs to want it too”

Jeonghan wanted to say something but chose to stay quiet. He understood what you meant. Even if he had gotten the impression from Mingyu that seeing you again was something Wonwoo wanted, Jeonghan wasn’t about to defend the guy. 

“Do you want to come home?” you shook your head, knowing that Jeonghan couldn’t see you but sure that your silence would be enough of an answer “It’s your call, you say the word and I’ll get you on the next flight out”

“You know I don’t quit jobs, Jeonghan, so I’ll finish this”

And then you’d go home, to the memories you kept.

Walking inside the office Wonwoo shared with Mingyu was like leaving the warmth of a blanket and facing the raging snowstorm outside with nothing more than a t-shirt. Where Mingyu was bright and talkative, Wonwoo was cold and silent. 

Not once did he talk to you, or even looked your way. In fact, on most days, the second you walked in, Wonwoo closed his door and wouldn’t leave his office — not even for a bathroom break — while you were there.

“I’m sorry about him. He’s usually quiet but never really like this”

Your entire body shuddered at the loud sound of the door closing. Every day, since you arrived, Mingyu tried to find ways to make excuses for Wonwoo’s behavior. “he’s just shy”, “Wonwoo’s stressed out because of a different project, the client is giving him hell”, “he got drunk last night”. 

You just nodded and pretend to hear whatever it was that Mingyu came up with. All of those were valid reasons to be in a bad mood. You had gone through those emotions more than once. But never had you used those situations as ways to be rude to other people. 

And truthfully, you couldn’t even understand why Wonwoo was acting like that. In the twelve years since you last saw each other, it has been your dream to see him again. You never expected to pick up your friendship, but you hoped that you could at least be friendly. Clearly, Wonwoo didn’t feel the same way.

“You should have talked to him about it, before bringing me here,” you said as you rolled up the design in front of you “Jeonghan knew my feelings, but I’m guessing that you didn’t know about Wonwoo’s as well as you thought”

Mingyu sighed and looked at his friend’s closed office door. 

“I thought I knew him, that this was something that he wanted”

It didn’t take long for you to discover that Jeonghan and Mingyu worked together on the plan to make you and Wonwoo work together on the same project. It would have been an okay plan if the two of you could stay in the same room for more than twenty seconds. But the moment Wonwoo found out that you would be in the project, he stepped back and Mingyu was doing all the work in his place. 

It wasn’t like Wonwoo didn’t do anything at all while you were there. He worked on other projects. Or just about anything that made him stay as far away as possible from you. 

“I’m going to work on these at the hotel, okay?” you raised the tube in your hands and smiled “He probably needs to pee or eat at this point”

Mingyu watched as you grabbed your purse and waved goodbye once you reached the door. Less than a minute later, the door to Wonwoo’s office opened and he walked out, after quickly making sure that you were nowhere to be seen. He stretched his arms to the sides and then slowly above his head before heading to the bathroom. 

“Until when exactly will you keep doing this?” Mingyu asked once Wonwoo left the bathroom. He watched as his friend sat in the same spot you were just a few minutes before and went through the blueprints you worked on. His fingers traced the words you had written, slightly smudging them

“Why are you over here longing over a drawing when you could be talking to her, understanding what actually happened back then?”

Wonwoo shook his head.

“You brought her here, you deal with her. If we talk, it won’t be pretty” 

Twelve years' worth of hurt and anger that had been carefully tucked away had been brought back to the surface the second he saw you. He had seen you before you saw him. He was at the window looking at the people moving across the street, hurrying here and there when he saw you. Your face briefly glanced at the notebook in your hands before looking around, as if you were looking for something or someone. It didn’t take him long to realize that you were looking for a place, and that place was exactly where he was. 

Shock, dread, and something else he hadn’t felt in years crept into his body as he watched in absolute horror as you greeted Mingyu, a bright smile on your face. A smile that dropped when you saw him. 

Even from across the room, Wonwoo could tell that your eyes filled with tears, your lips forming his name without ever making a sound. The tears gave room to hope as you smiled at him. Mingyu, who was in front of you talking excitedly, was completely forgotten for a moment.

Still, Wonwoo couldn’t share that happiness with you.

“So you’re going to hold over her head something that happened when the two of you were sixteen?”

“Yeah” was all Wonwoo said.

By the end of week two, you were exhausted and had had enough of Wonwoo pretending that you didn’t exist and Mingyu making excuses on his behalf. 

You made excuses for him as well. 

Wonwoo, as a teenager, was someone who needed time to understand certain situations and come up with a plan. When talking to Mingyu about him, you understood that part of his personality hadn’t changed. So you gave him time, plenty of it. Tried to not feel hurt over it, all the ways he avoided you, how Mingyu was the one working with you when Wonwoo should be the one doing it. 

But enough was, eventually, enough, and you handled it as best as you could, for as long as you could. The project was far from being done. If you were optimistic and everything went according to plan, there was still a month of work to be done.

“Is that door locked?” you asked Mingyu once you walked inside the office.

Mingyu looked over his shoulder at Wonwoo’s door and at his friend through the glass door. Although he looked focused on whatever it was that he was doing, he was way more concerned about everything that was happening outside.

“Go crazy,” he answered with a smile.

Setting your bag where you usually sat, you marched to Wonwoo’s office. He merely looked at you over his glasses before looking back at his computer.

“I’m busy right now”

“I don’t actually give a fuck” you pushed the screen of his computer until it was closed in front of him “I’ve given you two weeks, allowed you to treat me like shit but I’ve had enough of that”

He leaned back in his chair, a condescending smile on his lips, and he had never quite looked so handsome before.

You tried your best not to stare at him too much, but he was all man now. Every time you looked at him, your heart did the same thing it did when you were a teenager. You tingled everywhere, but you still held yourself back from reaching for him. Just for a second, you wanted to hold his hand and feel his skin against yours.

However, the wall Wonwoo built in front of you was so high that you felt like you were wrong just from breathing in the same room as him.

“I know it’s been twelve years, and I don’t expect things to be how they used to be, but I thought that if this day ever happened, we would at least be friendly. Why are you treating me like this?”

“You left, you couldn’t possibly expect things to be different from what they are now”

Wonwoo was right. You left, but even after twelve years, it was still the hardest thing you ever did. And it was the one thing you had absolutely no control over. You were sixteen and your dad hated Wonwoo so much that he found a job in a different city, so you would move somewhere else.

You found out about it a couple of days before it actually happened. You and Wonwoo came up with a plan to keep in touch until you were eighteen and finally free to do whatever you wanted.

Phone calls are just for emergencies, you and Wonwoo agreed, so let’s communicate through letters, I’ll send the first one because I still don’t know exactly where they’re taking me but we can go back and forth after that.

For months you wrote letters that were never answered, but you thought that delivery was bad and nothing more. Only realizing that something was off once when you started to get the letters back. There was no hint of them being ever opened and the stamp recipient refused correspondence in bright red. 

Then the phone calls started. She asked Jihoon, a friend from school, to make the call, afraid that if whoever answered heard her voice, they would call her dad. The calls were always made in the specific hours Wonwoo instructed you but he was never there to answer.

“You’re right, I left. But what I can’t understand is why you’re acting like this when you were the one who never answered”

An incredulous laugh left Wonwoo’s mouth as he got up. He was still taller than you, the different bigger than in your memory. His shoulders got broader too. Your hands shook as you pushed them inside the pockets of your jacket.

“I never answered because you never wrote or called”

You shook your head, stepping back and hitting the glass wall behind you. You looked over your shoulder for a second to find Mingyu staring at you, probably listening to every word you said.

“For two years I wrote to you, every week as we planned, and every single time the letters were returned to me. I had a guy from school call your house every other week but you never once picked up the call. We had to stop when your brother started to think that you were in trouble” 

The same condescending smile was still on his lips. Wonwoo didn’t believe you, not for a second. There were no letters, no phone calls. You had never tried to reach him in any way.

“You never really cared, y/n. Be honest with me, I was just the guy who gave you some attention when you lacked it from your parents. I’m sure the guy from school you mentioned was happy to fill in for me”

Your entire body shook, out of hurt and anger. You wanted to lash out at him, scream or something, anything at all, that would make him understand. But he was convinced and if he was still anything like the boy you knew, there was no chance of convincing him.

You turned your back to him, your shaky fingers reaching for the door handle. You rested your head on the door for a second, trying your best to push the air back into your lungs.

“You were my best friend” you whispered, so low that Wonwoo almost missed it “You were the most important person in the world to me. There was only you”

You pulled the door open and stepped outside. You were never one to cry in front of people, even if that was all you wanted but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop once Mingyu was in sight again. Or at least a very blurry version of him.

“y/n…” Mingyu reached for you, his hand on your shoulder. And then he felt it, your body shaking so violently that it surprised him that he couldn’t see it happening “Let me drive you back”

You shook your head, stepping away from his touch. Mingyu was nice and kind, his presence was the only source of comfort amidst Wonwoo’s coldness. He did his best to make you feel welcomed but he couldn’t do anything for you anymore.

“I can just call a taxi” you pushed away the tears away and tried to smile at him, trying to assure him, “I’m fine, don’t worry”

Only when you were on the other side of the street, you allowed yourself to let out the sobs that were stuck in your throat. Everything hurt, but most of all, your heart was shattering into a million different pieces once again.

Throughout the entire weekend Wonwoo felt uncomfortable in his own skin, something that hadn’t happened to him in many years. 

He didn’t expect the way you left his office to affect him so much, or at all, to be honest. What he said to you was part of the little speech he practiced over the years, in case he ever saw you again. What he didn’t practice was the part where you cried and said that you tried to contact him for years.

He realized he was wrong when he saw the shock on your face. He started to think that maybe the things he believed for years were lies 

So he did the only thing that he could think of. He stayed inside his car, outside the hotel you were staying at, building up the courage to get out and talk to you.

It was awfully hard, Wonwoo realized, to admit that he was wrong for so many years. And it was even a little embarrassing to think that he didn’t need any convincing at all. When Mingyu barged into his office, Wonwoo was already fully convinced that he was, in fact, wrong.

He watched as you left the building with nothing but a wallet and your phone and went to the coffee shop on the other side of the street.

“She used to hate coffee,” he said to himself.

He felt like a stalker, watching you in secret. But that feeling wasn’t enough to shake him. He was okay with being a creep for a little while if it meant making sure that you were alright.

Your eyes seemed a little puffy and you looked down at your phone for a second before pressing it to your ear. You were quiet for a moment before you spoke to whoever was on the line. You were on the phone the entire time you waited for your drink.

Wonwoo felt a sharp pain in his chest as the frown on your face eased and a small smile appeared on your lips.

It had never occurred to him that you could have been in a relationship, that there was someone in your life. He was so focused on the memory of you, that he let go of the person in front of him.

“We’ll talk on Monday” he promised himself “Let’s calm down for now”

Weekends usually went by quickly for Wonwoo, much to his disappointment. He used to love to be by himself, in his apartment, watching TV, or sleeping. 

But that one weekend, in specific, dragged on and on. Never before was he so desperately waiting for Sunday to end. He purposely got to the office later than usual. Wonwoo wanted to make sure that you were already there. He wanted to apologize and maybe have a decent conversation with you for a change, one that didn’t end with you crying.

Wonwoo felt a tingle of disappointment when he noticed that you weren’t anywhere to be seen. Instead, going over the blueprints you were working on friday was a man he had never seen before. 

“Ah, Wonwoo” Mingyu said “This is Jeonghan, y/n works for him”

Jeonghan stood up and reached out to shake Wonwoo’s hand. 

“It may be my name on the door, but she’s the soul of the firm, so I’d say that I work for her”

His smile looked innocent enough, but Wonwoo knew better and it was obvious why Jeonghan was there. You had left.

“Can we talk?” Jeonghan asked from the door.

He didn’t wait for Wonwoo’s answer and walked in without an invitation.

Wonwoo watched him quietly all morning. The way he interacted with Mingyu, how he moved around the office. It was easy to see personality traits being shared by the two of you, from the way the two of you used the same wording in a sentence to how he even moved around the office.

Wonwoo wondered if he was the person you had been talking with on the phone on Saturday.

“Sure”

Jeonghan moved to sit on the chair in front of Wonwoo. The box in his hand never felt heavier.

“I don’t appreciate y/n calling me, in the middle of the night, in panic, begging me to let her go home” he did his best to keep his voice leveled but it was hard to “I’ve known her years and something like this never happened before” 

Wonwoo’s heart felt tight inside his chest as if someone was squeezing it. He didn’t mean it, he didn’t want to hurt you at all he realized. He was filled with regret the moment he spoke. Jeonghan’s words explained why Mingyu said that you had a family emergency and that’s why you left in a hurry because that’s probably what you told him. Needless to say, neither of them believed it. Wonwoo much less, considering your past relationship with your parents.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said those things to her”

Sighing, Jeonghan put the box in front of Wonwoo.

“These are letters she wrote. She kept them for the past twelve years. I told her many times to throw them away but I was the one who stopped her this time around”

Jeonghan knew that he was going to regret his decision. Once Wonwoo went through them, there was no way he wouldn’t  want to talk to you. Wonwoo stayed quiet as Jeonghan flexed his fingers on the edges of the shoe box, one that Wonwoo remembered all too well.

“You like her”

“From the moment I saw her” Jeonghan answered with a nod, finally pushing the box away from him “But there was never really a place for me, not like that”

He stood, pushing the chair back, putting his hands deep inside his pockets.

“If you hurt her, even if you don’t mean to, I’ll be sure to make you regret that decision every single day for the rest of your life”

Hi Wonwoo,

On my way here I kept thinking about how I would write that this place sucks, that the school is awful and absolutely no one here talks to me. It was a plan, you know? But if I did that, I would be lying and sounding like a bratty teenager. So I won’t. 

The house Dad found is so cool, there’s a swing set in the back and my room is also nice. School doesn’t seem too bad either and I’ve made friends. There’s this boy, our age, who I share classes with, Jihoon, who I think you’d like. I’m thinking about asking him to call you when I can’t deal with not hearing your voice anymore. Not now, of course, but at some point in the future.

I’ve been gone for three weeks, and I already miss you like crazy. I started to miss you once we were on the road. Not seeing you or talking to you for three weeks is torture. In a way, I guess, my parents are succeeding. I miss the feeling I had waking up, knowing that I would get to see you, that we would go to the woods behind the school and just talk. About anything and everything. 

Sorry this first letter isn’t long, there isn’t much going on and I still don’t know what to say. Also, I’m sorry it took me so long to write. Dad has been paying attention to what I do, so I’ve been trying to keep quiet so he’ll leave me alone.

I miss you a lot,

yn

Hi Wonwoo,

So, something weird happened today. All the letters I’ve sent so far, six, came back as if you had refused to receive them. Did something happen? I’m sure it’s just a mistake, but I just want to make sure.

Either way, I’ll keep writing, but I’ll ask Jihoon to make the call tomorrow. We’ll come up with a plan so that no one finds out that I’m the one calling. 

Please be there when we call, and please pick up the phone.

I miss you

yh

Hi Wonwoo,

It’s been months now and I can’t get a hold of you, the letters are still being rejected and the calls too. You’re never there, not even once. 

I keep holding out the hope that your life just changed, for the better. Now you have new friends and a girlfriend so you’re busy with the new life. If that’s the case and that’s why you pushed me away, then it’s fine. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy and if me not being part of your life helps that happiness then I’ll gladly stay away.

But you’re happy, right?

Please find happiness, Wonwoo. In whatever shape or form that you can find. There’s no one else in this world that deserves it more than you. 

I think I’ll keep writing to you, maybe not as often, but I’ll keep writing either way. Even if you don’t think of me as a friend anymore, you’re still that someone for me.

I hope your college plans didn’t change. I really want to see you again. 

I miss you so much. I think I’m going crazy.

yn

Wonwoo,

I just got back home. It was such a long drive, and it only made me realize that I hate driving more than anything else. I’d just rather either walk or take the bus. But that’s not really important right now.

For the past few years, I’ve written you letters. A lot at first and then fewer as time went by. It’s not that nice to write letters that will be sent back, never read. But still, I wrote, hoping that maybe, just maybe, this one would be the one you’d accept. You never did, though.

So I made a promise to myself that the second I turned eighteen, when my parents couldn’t hold their power of legal guardians over me, I would get inside my car and drive all the way back to you. If he’s going to reject me, then he has to do it in my face. I think I just like being hurt or something, but honestly, you’re the only one that I’d go this far for.

Anyway.

Four days ago it was my eighteenth birthday so I got in my car at two in the morning and drove back to our hometown. I kept thinking about what I would say to you and not a whole lot came to mind. I just wanted to hug you. That’s the only thought that crossed my mind. Even if he rejects me, I’m going to hug him for 5 entire seconds. I’m sort of pathetic, right? 

It’s okay, only you get to see this version of me. Ever.

So I got there and went straight to your house. Your brother, he’s so tall now, was the only one there and he said that you were gone. Left the week before and he didn’t know where you went.

Obviously, I didn’t believe him. If I had a brother and he left, I’d want to know where he went. So I stayed in town for 3 days. I went to the places you’d usually go to, but mostly to the lake. I parked my car as close as possible and slept inside it. Careless, I know. It was also terrifying. But nothing bad happened, so please give me a pass on the lecture.

As expected, I didn’t find you there either. You know, one would think that you’re dead, considering that there’s no way to find you at all. But I also asked if you were alive and the answer was yes and an incredulous laugh so…

After sitting alone in my car for an hour, crying, I came back home. And I made a decision.

I don’t know what you’ll do with your life, if you’re going to the college we agreed on or if you’re going to college at all. Either way, I won’t look for you. I will do my best to never search for your name anywhere (which I have and there was no Jeon Wonwoo anywhere)

This is also the last letter that I ever write to you. There’s no point in writing to someone who will never read what you want to say to them. There’s no point in loving someone who doesn’t love you back. 

Because I do, Wonwoo. I really do love you. Not as just a friend, as in love with you. I remember thinking that you weren’t accepting my letters because you had a girlfriend and nothing hurt more than that. Because I would have chosen you, even if we were to remain just friends. It was always you for me. Or maybe an idolized version of you.

Because now you are forever the love that never was, one that I just never got to live to the fullest.

I’m sorry if my love for you was suffocating.

I’ll stop loving you now and live the college life to the best of my abilities.  

If we see each other by chance, let’s just smile and move on. Let us be a good memory of our teenage years.

yn

You felt apologetic towards Jeonghan. He was a friend and also your boss, but he was out there covering for you because you couldn’t bring yourself to not care anymore. 

Twelve years since you last saw Wonwoo, ten since the last letter you wrote to him. Three different relationships, with people that were wildly different from him, and at every single turn the guy was compared to him. Without a fault, no one was as good as him. 

And being honest, it was so stupid to compare grown men to the memory of a teenage boy. For all you knew, Wonwoo could have turned into a completely different person. And he did. It just wasn’t a version of him you liked very much.

So maybe, who Wonwoo had grown to be wasn’t someone you would have loved. Maybe him treating you like that was what you needed to finally get him out of your mind.

The love that never was, you remember writing. Perhaps now you could change that thought to the love that never was because it turns out that Wonwoo is a complete asshole.

You looked at your computer screen, reading the e-mail Jeonghan sent you earlier. 

you| If there’s anything I can help you with, please tell me. Also, apologize to Mingyu for me. I was so desperate to leave that I didn’t say bye to him

jeonghan| He says ‘I heard what Wonwoo said, there’s nothing to apologize for’ and you should focus on the projects there. There’s enough to do on your end as well, now that you’re me for the time being

You smiled lightly, closing your laptop and finally pulling the blankets over your legs. Although you were offering to help, you hoped that Jeonghan would tell you not to do anything for now. You felt bad and working was always a coping mechanism for you but the situation somehow felt like a breakup, the worst kind. So all you wanted to do was lay on your couch, watching a romcom, wondering where it had gone so wrong for you.

How stupid it was that you had gotten your heart broken twice, by the same guy, without ever being in a relationship with him? Without ever kissing him? 

“Jeon Wonwoo, always making me look like a fool”

Somewhere in the middle of the second movie you had fallen asleep but it wasn’t the light from the TV that woke you. It was the never-ending knocking on your door.

With legs that were yet to wake up, you walked to the door, standing on your tiptoes to reach the peephole. You took a step back, the door suddenly on fire under your palms.

Wonwoo.

You didn’t want to answer the door, didn’t want to fight with him once again because you knew you’d lose. You’d just let him scream, say whatever acid words he had saved for you.

“Please, y/n, open the door. I know you’re in there, I can hear the TV and I see your shadow from under the door”

You leaned your head against the door, the tears already running freely down your cheeks. You did such a good job of not crying. The six hours of crying sessions, that led to the worst migraine ever known to man, had been enough. You decided that you had no more tears left to cry for Wonwoo. And yet there you were, crying over his voice, over the fact that he was at your door, somehow.

“Go away, Wonwoo, please”

“Can you, at least hear me out? You don’t have to open the door at all. Just please, please, hear me out. You can tell me to fuck off later. OK?”

He took your silence as a positive answer. Wonwoo took a deep breath before he started.

“I never got your letters, not one of them. I didn’t reject them as you said, I would have never done that. If there was anything I wanted when I was sixteen was to hear from you. I didn’t know about the phone calls either. If I can be honest, there was once a brief mention of a call to me but nothing other than that and by that point, I was already angry enough to not care. I thought that your parents were holding you back, somehow, from contacting me. So I kept waiting and waiting. I asked at school if they had gotten letters under my name. I thought that maybe you were scared to send the letters to my house but there was nothing there either.

“And with time, I got hurt and angrier and then hurt some more. That silence was like a confirmation of what everyone used to think, but it came from you. And that hurt more than anything else because you were the one person who ever saw me as someone who mattered too. I’m sorry I said those things to you, I really am, you don’t know how sorry I am. I regretted saying them the second the words left my mouth. The last thing I ever want is to hurt you”

There was a pause and a soft knock on the door and, somehow you just know that Wonwoo was crying too. A quiet sob a second later was all the confirmation you needed. You had never seen him cry before. Even back then, while talking about things that obviously hurt him, Wonwoo would still keep that serene and peaceful look in his eyes. Hearing him cry was breaking your heart all over again, in ways that you weren’t even aware were possible. Your fingers moved to the door handle, and you unlocked it, pulling it open.

Wonwoo’s eyes and nose were red, tear paths running down his cheeks. 

Without thinking about it, you stepped outside and wrapped your arms around his waist, your head pressed against his chest. The sound of his heart beating wildly brought some sort of comfort, like listening to this one song you’ve been waiting for your entire life, the one that was always in the back of your mind and you could never quite find it. Until you did. 

It was right there, the sound of his beating heart.

It felt like home.

He was home.

“Look at me,” Wonwoo asked, his voice barely a whisper. 

You looked up at him, your chin on his chest. You refused to take a step back. 

The small smile that overtook your lips was unstoppable once you saw the look in Wonwoo’s eyes. Long gone was the look of pure hatred that he had on that first day. He was suddenly the Wonwoo you knew again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his fingertips brushing against your cheeks, pushing away the last of your tears, and then his lips were on your cheeks, then your forehead “I’m sorry we lost eleven years, I would do anything to get them back”

You brought his hand to your lips, placing a soft kiss on his knuckles.

“Let’s do our best to not lose the next twelve then”

a/n: thank you for reading! reblogs, comments and likes are always welcomed

[nadjabea]

Crowley and Aziraphale never broke up. The conversation we (believe to) see in the end is not the conversation they had.

Aziraphale and Crowley play their own game of spionage and sabotage - and talk about it while we all are watching.

Edit 10/22/23: This analysis needs to be updated because there is more evidence of the body swap and because of that some of my interpretations what they REALLY say is much more precise. Will do it soon.

My point is: Aziraphale communicated a plan in the confession scene – in the subtext. And it culminated in a full body switch.

How? They have thousands of years of practice of talking and signaling their next steps to each other in a way that would not be noticed by any bystander, even less by their respective headoffices. We have seen this in the Job minisode.

They use body language, signs and references to films, songs, everything their head offices won't understand because they lack the earthly knowledge.

Maybe Aziraphale and Crowley even had a back up plan before the Metatron entered the scene. Why I got this notion? Because after their conversation in the bar about Jane Austen, Aziraphale has adapted Crowley’s notion of Austen as a spy and the mastermind behind a bank robbery. Doesn’t this seem odd for the owner of a book shop? (There is this interesting theory of Crowley planning a heist and the turtle neck being Crowley’s “spy dress” by @justhereforthemeta

So here is my analysis/interpretation of the conversation they had.

Note: I am not a native English speaker, I am German. This might of course influence my interpretation of the conversation.

-> After he spoke to the Metatron, Aziraphale comes back to the bookshop and plays happy.

Just as Crowley starts to talk – Aziraphale knows he has to interrupt him.

Aziraphale's hands sign: Stop! First, he tries it soft, watches out of the window to indicate: "We are under supervision!" As Crowley doesnt pick it up, Aziraphale lifts his hands in front of his chest. So they are more visible. Still: Crowley does'nt get it.

Aziraphale: I have some incredibly good news. Uhm The Metatron. I don’t think he is as bad a fellow. Um. I think I might have misjudged him. (Incredibly good news! My ass! Look at my face. Do I look happy? THE METATRON!!! Be aware! He is much worse than I thought!”

While Aziraphae plays the happy and exited angel, he signs "Time out!". His smile is forced. He points into direction of heaven, looks out of the window and hopes Crowley will pick up: "SOS! We need a time out because we have to talk without heaven listening."

But Crowley is like a steam train: He is on his track to confess and does'nt get Aziraphale's distress.

Aziraphale parafrases the talk with the metatron. His body language indicates he is stressed, again and again he turns into the direction of window, his eyes are forced open. Crowley still does'nt get it.

Crowley: He said what?

Aziraphale: He said, I could appoint YOU (tumps to Crowley) to be an angel (it seems that Aziraphale's thumps point to himself). You could come back to heaven and everything. Like in the old times (the old times when we had to pretend to be apart, but in reality worked together and did each other’s work without heaven or hell noticing).

(I don’t think that Aziraphale refers to the pre-fall times because I don’t think Crowley and Aziraphale spent much time together than. Crowley was probably more a loner “minding his own business” or hang out with the wrong group, Lucifer and the gang. Aziraphale would have been much too afraid to spend time around the trouble maker angels.)

Aziraphale: Only even nicer (You know that I know that you hate nice! Come on, get it!)

As Aziraphale gets on with his “excitement” about the new job, Crowley still don’t seem to get the subtext. After Crowley tells him he said no to hell, Aziraphale escalates: He falls back to their "Kayfebe", their way to play that they are along the "party line". (For more on Kayfebe read this post of @nautilicious).

Aziraphae „But heaven. It’s the side of truth, of light, of good.“ Looks obviously into direction of the window as he plays a sharade for the metatron. (Crowley, you know that we settled for shades of grey! Get it, we are under attack! )

Crowley (still doesn’t get it): When heaven ends life here on earth it will be just as dead as if hell ended it. Tell me you said No.

Aziraphael turns his head into the direction of the window to show Crowley they are being observed.

Crowley: Tell me you said no.

Crowley starts to realise that they are in danger but still does not pick up the immediate threat from the Metatron. So he starts his confession but changes it to propose to run away. > You only need to run away if there is someone hunting you. So at least, he gets that now.

During Crowley's statement Aziraphale shakes his head. (we wil not be able to outrun heaven)

Aziraphale: Come with me. (Pause) To heaven. I’ll run it, you will be my second in command. (Crowley, follow my plan: Ill will run this command, you will be my agent in heaven.)

As a non native speaker I looked up the synonyms for “second in command”. They list “substitute”, “replacement” “sub-agent” and “agent”. Agent! Here we are with our spionage story. Jane Austen, the spy, smuggler and mastermind behind a bank robbery.

Crowley: You cant leave this bookshop. (Okay, I get what you mean. But, no, we cant be separeted! you cant leave me on my own - in (an ambessy of) heaven. - Another interpretation: It cant be you who leaves. You have to stay here. )

Aziraphale: Oh, Crowley, nothing lasts forever.

I think this is a code phrase of them. It might refer to a song which was in the charts in 1966/67:

“Nothing last forever” sung by Margaret Whiting, who was already popular in the 1940s.

These are the lyrics:

Now you're down and broken hearted

you have lost your lucky star

You are sure you have no future

You don't know how wrong you are.

Nothing lasts forever baby

Even pain and misery

All your tears will turn to laughter

Baby just you wait and see.

Nothing lasts forever...wait and see.

Now you've lost your only lover

Now your dreams are torn in two

You are sure you'll live in darkness

But the sun's gonna shine for you.

Nothing lasts forever baby

Even pain and misery

All your tears will turn to laughter

Baby just you wait and see.

Nothing lasts forever...wait and see.

Now you've got an inch to go

If you still be a mile

Now the bidder's calling you

Capture this to a smile

Now what seemed eternity

Was the sun in a while.

Nothing lasts forever baby

Even pain and misery

All your tears will turn to laughter

Baby just you wait and see.

Nothing lasts forever...wait and see.

Wait and see.

Wait and see.

Wait and see.

Nothing lasts forever baby

Even pain and misery

All your tears will turn to laughter

Baby just you wait and see.

Nothing lasts forever baby

Even pain and misery

All your tears will turn to laughter (fade)

Somehow I can imagine that Crowley liked this song and they listened to it together in the bookshop. So he knows the lyrics - and gets what Aziraphale tries to tell him.

Crowley: No. No. Don’t suppose it does.

He puts on his glasses to hide his tears but also because now he has to pretend. And he has the need to cover his eyes when he lies. You can see this in the 1941 minisode. While he watches Aziraphale perform the coin trick, Crowley led his glasses slide down his nose and you can see his eyes. But the second he starts lying to Aziraphale about him being a professional magician Crowley puts his glasses up und covers his eyes.

So Crowley starts to go along with Aziraphale's plan, plays to be reluctant - which he probably still is. He doesn’t want to go to heaven, considers Aziraphales plan probably to be a - to use the German expression - “Himmelfahrtskommando” which means literally “a squat that goes to heaven = a suicide squat) - Another interpretation: Maybe he doesnt want Aziraphale to go to heaven?

Crowley: Good luck.

Aziraphale: Crowley, come back. Work with me (I have got a plan, trust me and work with me). We can be together. Angels (you can have my body. So you will be an angel.) Doing good (saving earth and us) - I need you. – I don’t think you understand what I am offering you (Are you really that daft?)

Crowley: I understand. And I understand a whole lot better than you do. (Heaven, hell, I have been there. And it is me that has to go to heaven now. And I don’t like it. - And it's you that will go to hell instead of me. And I dont like it either)

Aziraphale: Well, than there is nothing more to say. (If you understand that I am offering you to posses my body, than do it)

Crowley: Do you hear that?

Aziraphale: I don’t hear anything. (Come on!)

Crowley: That’s the point. No nightingales (neither in heaven nor in hell).

“No nightingales” can have several meanings.

a) It's their song. The symbol of their love. There is no love in heaven, nor in hell.

b) The nightingale sings to protect clandestine love. Now they are not any longer under the protection of the night and the nightingale. Their love is laid open and we know what happened to Romeo and Juliet when the nightingale stopped singing.

c) Someone here on tumblr pointed to a novel called “No nightingales”. There is movie from 1947 that is based on this novel. In Wikipedia you can find this synopsis:

“In the 18th Century, Burlap and Kelsoe are officers in the army of Queen Anne who have recently retired and purchased a house on Berkeley Square. At a house-warming party the pair speculate how to win the war however they learn that the Duke of Marlborough has other plans that will lead to the Battle of Malplaquet. Believing the battle will end in slaughter they hatch a plan to capture Marlborough and hold him prisoner until the threat of hostilities passes. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Ghosts_of_Berkeley_Square

Problem is: They are not at all competent and get killed bevor they could prevent the war. So they are cursed to be ghosts until a member of the royal family visits their house.

So could they plan the kidnapping of the Metatron or even God herself? Hold that thought! I definitly will think about that as a plot for season 3.

Crowley: You idiot. We could have been US. (Why did you have to get yourself associated with Gabriel? We could have led our own lifes, in our own bodies)

The kiss - and the body swap /posession

It is not a kiss to show they love each other, it is a kiss to mask the body possession, they exchange their essences

@doctorscienceknowsfandom has laid down already a lot of hints and signs Neil Gaiman planted in the open in the meta "Banana Fish Gorilla Shoelace with a dash of nutmeg" that Crowley and Aziraphale changed bodies.

@lonicera-caprifoliumhas some more hints.

Here are even more points that indicate: they have changed.

When the kiss ends "Aziraphale" cries und when "Crowley" leaves he touches his lips and his hands are shaking.

Several people already pointed out the face, the movement of the jaw and so on: This is Michael Sheen’s Crowley. I think the shaking and the tears are another hint that this is Crowley. Why? Until now we have only seen the hands of one of them shaking on screen: Crowley’s, in the 1941 minisode. Crowley’s hands are shaking if he is under pressure, and overwhelmed. Aziraphale on the other side seems to get nerves of steal when he has to perform (his tricks only work when it counts).

There are even more hints that they have changed their bodies:

“Crowley” is standing upright at the Bentley. He doesn’t move his body, he doesn’t move his face. Something that is so NOT Crowley, who is always in motion.

Also: Remember the first episode when Crowley and Aziraphale fought over Gabriel. Aziraphale told Crowley that he can leave when he doesn’t want to help and Crowley couldn’t contain his rage about that. He was fuming and throwing lightnings – all visible in the middle of the street, surrounded by humans (!). All because of a fight that – in retrospective – was much less threatening to their relationship and their lives.

In a script there is nothing without meaning. And I can’t discover any other meaning for the scene in which Crowley throws lightnings after a fight with Aziraphale than to show that the scene in the end was not a fight.

Hence: There is no way that the real Crowley would be that calm in the last scene. Crowley has much less control over his emotions than Aziraphale.

And even if it was Crowley at the Bentley and managed calmly to watch Aziraphale leave. He would not be able to contain himself after Aziraphale was in the lift. Once in his car (his save space) he would release his anger and pain. Crying, shouting, maybe even hitting the steering wheel, he would drive away as fast as possible screaming at an invisible Aziraphale because this might give him some relive.

But what do we see? A very contained demon.

Next evidence: The colour code of Aziraphale (yellow) and Crowley (red):

When “Aziraphale” is on screen people wear red. When “Crowley” is on screen a lot of people in yellow pass.

And even the plants in the Bentley appear to have changed to yellow. Bonus: A yellow flower blooms behind “Crowley”. Hence: It has to be Aziraphale.

So: Why would Neil Gaiman use the same trick twice?

Because it isn’t the same trick.

In S1 they changed their appearance. Aziraphale presenting as Crowley is still an angel. Therefore immune against holy water. Crowley presenting as Aziraphale is still a demon, immune against hellfire.

But this time, I think, they really posses the body of the other (wow, they really have come a long way from “What a pity you cant have my body” – “Angel, demon, probably would explode” ).

So, what does this mean? Angel and demons are from the same flock. It is impossible to distinguish them, except for the marks on their bodies. Now Aziraphale is indistinguishable able from the other demons, Crowley indistinguishable from the other angels.  

This raises the stakes when it comes to “The Second Coming”.

And this explains Crowleys worried face: He knew about the planes for Armaggedon 2.0,the destruction of earth.

The "Second Coming" is different. It is about judgement.

In the end everyone is going to be judged. The righteous will go to heaven, the other are cast away, extint. So what about an angel in the body of a demon? You see where I am heading ...

There is a lot to explore. The concept of "pretend to be good" and "properly good" and much much more. I will write about it another time.

Now I am curious: Am I delusional? Cant I just cope with the break up? What do think? Tell me you views. Let us discuss.

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Firefighter!Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings: none, fluff

~ Been thinking about Eddie as a fire fighter after watching 9-1-1

Not proofread

Eddie never had any real desire to get into this type of profession. The thought never even crossed his mind. After he got into some trouble with police. the judge gave him two options to pick from, which were. Spend a few months behind bars or community service.

After a while, he ended up failing in love with it. He very much liked uniform and riding around in that big truck. He loved helping people. He figured out that was his true calling. He's been caught in some very life-threatening situations. For the part most, he's getting calls for various things. Usually, they're just false alarms, or some kid got their head stuck in something.

Eddie's saved cats from trees and families from their burning homes. Every day, he goes home smelling like smoke. Eddie wouldn't trade this life for anything else. Not to mention, most of the town laid off his ass too. That was a big plus. No more harassment or being threatened.

His department got a call like normal early that morning. For a small house fire that got a little out of control. Eddie rushed with the rest of his squad and got his uniform on, hopping in the truck.

By the time they got their the fire was pretty much put out thanks to you. Your neighbor was in her eighties, and her cat had knocked her candle off the table. The fire lit up her shaggy curtains in an instant.

The entire squad rushed into her apartment anyway to inspect everything just to make sure it was safe. Eddie went in but came back out to talk to you.

"You put out the fire?" He walked up, taking his helmet off. His uniform stained in old soot. E. Munson was patched on his jacket at the bottom.

You had just helped the paramedics take away your neighbor. She had asked you to watch over her cat for the night. Which you happily agreed to.

You turn around. "Oh, uhh yeah, I did-."

"That could have gotten real ugly next time. Just leave and let us handle it." He walked a little closer. His tone wasn't rude, but it wasn't too friendly at first either.

You nodded, knowing he was right after all. That fire could have gotten really bad very fast. "Hopefully, there won't be a next time."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck."So you live here long?" Eddie's tone changed to more a friendly one.

His eyes squinted a little as the sun beamed down on him.

You smile and begin to walk away, "Two years."

"Two years? Wow, we get calls here all the time, and this is my first time seeing you." He recalled raising his eyebrows.

Eddie has been called to this apartment building more than he can recall. He knows the people and the building like the back of his hand. One time, it was for a kid who stuck marbles up his nose. The others were for little none dangerous things. But he definitely should have remembered a face like yours by now.

You slowly side by side, "good or bad?"

He stopped walking, and a smirk played on his lips, "I guess in this type of circumstance good."

"So I should start calling for any tiny minor inconvenience?" You turned to face him.

He was about to say something else but was cut off when another fireman yelled for him. "Eddie! It's all clear!"

You watched him throw a thumbs up and look back at you. The sun, his eyes, made his brown eyes almost glow. His hair was tied in a low bun, and he had slight stumble. You noticed a tattoo on his neck peaking out from the collar of his jacket.

He chuckled and went back to your conversation, "If I got to see that pretty face, I think I can let it slide."

Your felt your face get hot, and you cleared your throat. "I bet you would."

Eddie looked down at his hands, taking his gloves off, revealing a few fades scars more tattoos. His voice got a little low, "are you by chance single?"

"I am." You eyed him curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Jus' wanted to go on one little date." He shrugged.

"Only one?" You questioned. You didn't want to sound offended, but why one date?

"Oh yeah, only need one to convince you in seeing me again." He kept his tone playful and light-hearted.

Eddie can tell he probably insulted you. He definitely didn't want to do that. He was just trying to be flirty.

"You think you can win me over with one little date?" You crossed your arms over your chest.

He stepped closer to you. "Oh, absolutely." His demeanor full of confidence. he was so sure he could woo you into as many dates as you wanted.

"Fine, we'll see if you're right then, Eddie." You bit your cheek trying not to laugh. You took what he said as a challenge. You also won't deny you did like him. You only met him an hour ago. For such short interaction, you felt drawn to him. He this twinkle in his eye that made you want to get to know him.

You and Eddie exchange numbers before you watched him hop back into that big firetruck parked out. He sat in the front seat with an arm hanging out the window. You couldn't look away. You saw him tip his helmet toward you as they pulled off and back to the station.

You hope your first date goes well because you're already planning the second one.

[icyblogs]

anyone still thinking about fallout? haha anyways here’s more ghoul!ghost (-‘:

Fallout!AU Ghoul!Ghost x Vaulter!Fem!Reader i’d imagine this takes some time after the events of this. but can be read by itself. (: WC: 2.6K Warnings: dark fic, noncon, mdni. Note: thinking about how ghouls canonly are sterile. this is a known fact, only slightly broken by the miracle that is Saint Monica from Fallout 3- which to this day i’m still not sure if it was some sort of gospel or not as it was from Father Clifford, but regardless. 

“Well um, well, our community is always looking for new members, we’d be happy to have you!” Brown eyes drift down at your familiar form, tilting his head as he watches your mannerisms as you flit around nervously, too polite to outwardly refuse him. His joints ache as they pop absentmindedly by his side, fingers twitching to dig into the soft flesh of your waist- to claw into your skin, aching to reinstate his claim. “And, there’s a lot of homes being built still as you can see but uh-, but I have a guest room here if you’d like to stay here. Our overseer says there might be a storm coming tonight!”  

“Is tha’ right, honey?” Simon croons- voice reverberating in the quiet evening, gloved hand coming up to rest on the top of the doorsill. He leans forwards, soaking in the way you slink backwards into the house, your eyes traveling down the expanse of his broad body. 

He was truly a bad man, made worse by this wasteland, you should be running for the hills- not offering him a place in your home. Like letting a wolf into a chicken coop; an insatiable beast that once it had the taste of you, it wouldn’t stop until there was nothing left. To tear you apart- aching to see if you tasted like how he remembered; saccharine ichor, sweet candy floss- it was enough to make his teeth grit, molars grinding together. 

His eyes drift down to your left hand, noticing the blatant lack of jewelry, jaw clicking in place. No ring, no memory- it was.. not what he had anticipated when he first approached you later that evening after the communal dinner. Maybe it was blissful thinking that when you’d notice him, your eyes would light up- and you’d run at him- into his awaiting embrace, where you belonged. With your husband.  

But, the wasteland had never been kind to him, so why would it continue to be now?

It was mocking in a way, dangling something in front of him, like a piece of meat to a starved, old, dog- one that salivated at the mere thought of it. Of you.

It really was obsolete, how could the world think of keeping the two of you apart? You didn’t belong here with this.. community. With these people. Don’t worry, he’d show you the right way of the world. No need to stay with these vaulters, filling your head about how the world now supposedly worked- this place would probably be blown up in a year or so by some fanatics- why bother staying here?

But if you insisted on playing house here just for a little while, he’d be happy to oblige for a day. Maybe two if he was feeling generous Then you’ll come back home with him in the little slice of territory he’s carved out (blood feeding the plants, bone-marrow for the fertilizer, built on a burial ground of his own creation) to spend the rest of your time together, alone. The way it should’ve been. Maybe chained to the bed so he’d know where you’d be at all the time, so you wouldn’t get lost again. 

All safe and sound.

See, Simon never believed in luck nor fate until he met you all those years ago. And it’s pretty damn hard to deny that it exists when you’re standing in front of him more than two centuries later, and he may as well consider himself the luckiest man alive. 

“I, Simon Riley take you to be my wife.” 

He finds solace with you- even if you don’t remember who he was. Even if you fight against him as he makes himself at home, all but slamming the door behind himself; mud-trodden boots tracking along the wood, smearing dirt and crimson. You don’t have your ring anymore, but that’s okay- he’ll give you a new one so you know who you belong to. Rings of teeth (chipped, missing) along the column of your throat, scarring until there’s no concept of a misunderstanding left. 

“To have and to hold from this day forwards.”

It wasn’t your fault that you’d forgotten who you were- wasn’t your fault that you didn’t immediately go searching for him when you had woken up, but it was alright. He’d teach you. Break you apart and take the pieces, building you right back up to how he remembered you. 

Eventually to a point where he didn’t have to tie your arms behind your back with a belt or stuff a rag in your mouth to muffle your cries for help. As much as he loved seeing you bound- as much as he loved hearing your noises— it would be a shame to pick through any more corpses for the bullet going through the skull of anyone trying to interrupt the reunion. 

“For better or for worse. For richer or for poorer.”

He thinks he’s in heaven, sitting between your spread legs- a bruising grip on your thigh, the other on your stomach, keeping you firmly situated on the bed. Trying his best to ignore the garbled whimper when he pulls down his bandana, watching as your eyes fill with more tears at his face, or lack thereof. Truly earning his nickname, a grim reaper looming over your bound body, licking his chapped lips as he stares unblinkingly down at you. You looked scared but.. it’s okay. Your husband‘s here now, no need to worry.

He leans down to rest against your knee, scarred cheek against soft skin, giving a chaste kiss. He goes up, leaving a trail of wet kisses along the skin up to the gusset of your underwear, trying to recall how you smelt- and he groans, providing an open mouthed kiss to the fabric. Breath warm, reverent as he peers up at you, soaking in how your cheeks looked warm, the moonlight from the outside casting an ethereal glow. 

“Poor girl been all neglected, hasn’t she?” He grumbles- giving the fabric another chaste kiss as he peels it off your skin and watches as you writhe beneath him, like a mouse caught by a viper, struggling so much that it only causes his hold on you that much tighter. Fingertips absentmindedly petting against your stomach, making their way up to your breasts, tweaking your nipples to stiff peaks. He was languid with it, like he had all the time in the world. Now, he supposed he did. Slowly, softly- treating you as if you were glass. As if one wrong move would cause you to disappear. Tongue laying flat as he makes out with your pussy, relishing it the way it gushes for him- or how your hips buck when he sucks on your clit just right. 

Simon worked you like he was orchestrating a band- each string plucked to perfection, remembering exactly what you liked like you were the back of his hand- knowing what made you tick. What made you unravel. His free hand slips between your legs, causing your thighs to squeeze around his head when one of his fingers starts to coax you open. It wouldn’t be the most terrible way to go out, if it was from you. 

Taking his sweet time working you to the edge and then over promptly, eyes rolling back as he laps at your cunt as if your juices was nectar- pure ambrosia. Liquid gold- you really did taste just as sweet as he remembered. He holds you firmly down as he continues to work your high into overstimulation, it was messy- worshiping- tongue, mouth, teeth- and he brings you crashing over the edge for a second time before finally pulling back, watching as you tremble beneath him, eyes a little bit glassy. Brain practically melting out of your ears, unable to really focus- tears slipping down your cheeks, breathing in deeply through your nose as you try and regain some sense of coherence. 

He’s never thought you looked more beautiful.

“In sickness and in health.”

It was easy to forget what home was like. Years of corrosion- sinking into grooves of his brain, plaguing his thoughts. Paranoia, questioning— so many voices that it was hard to think. Yet as he looks down at your already tuckered out form, he only smiles- feeling at peace. No voices whispering in his ear- no phantom pains, he felt relaxed, for the first time in a long while. Home was where you were, whether you knew it or not. 

Breathing staggered, he kneads at the meat of your thigh soothingly as he works to fish out his cock with one hand, giving it a few lazy pumps as he lines himself up, smearing arousal over your puffy clit. He rests one hand on your knee, notching the head at your entrance- watching you closely as you give a little shake of your head. 

“‘ou can take it for me, can’t you love?” He encourages, starting to make his way home. The first inch takes his breath away momentarily, and he moves your knees so they are up against your chest. Watching you flit around and flounder- eyes wide as you gasp for breath behind the rag. Drool falling from the corner of your lips, toes curling at the sheer stretch. 

“Tha’s it. Biggg stretch.” He continues to push in until he bottoms out. Thighs pressing to the back of yours, eyes fluttering at the sensation of your cunt tightening around him like a goddamn vice- “Feels like a fuckin’ dream, love. She remembers me huh? Even if you don’t- fuck-“ 

His hand finds your cheek, throat tightening as he sees your panicked expression, the furrowed eyebrows, staring back at him behind a wall of tears. It was enough to make him almost pull out to comfort you. Almost- you’d understand why he was doing this someday, even thank him for it. “It’s okay, deep breaths, yeah? You can do it.” He coaxes instead, pupils blown out as he looks down at where the two of you were connected, giving an experimental thrust, nearly coming at the pretty muffled moan that makes its way out of your throat. It’s been way too long.

“Feels good?” You shake your head, and his eyes crinkle as a smile graces his scarred lips, his thumb brushing away one of your tears. Going slow at first but he starts to get lost in the feeling of his cock drags in and out of your gummy walls— and he starts to go rougher, ignoring your little whimpers and whines. How your feet try and kick free out of the mating press, and he all but snarls, head dropping to the crook of your neck, teeth nipping- almost as a warning as he continues to fuck you into oblivion. 

“To love and to cherish.”

He used to imagine a family with you back then before the bombs dropped. Take a vacation, build a nursery together- paint the walls. Bring a little piece of the both of you into the world. You always did reassure him that his past didn’t define him, that he would be a good father. That he was enough.

Living this long.. had its downside. He knew that. It was an ouroboros, a constant loop, a mindfuck. It’s been hell on Earth. He’s accepted that, a phantom- a ghost living in this wasteland, thriving on those who were more surviving rather than the living. But he never really considered nor cared about a specific aspect of it. Sterile, never able to reproduce. 

Simon had once wondered if one day you’d sit outside with him, dinner on the stove, watching as he built a cradle. He could’ve just imagined the baby bump and his eyebrows furrow, picking up his pace as beads of sweat drip down his brow.

It was wishful thinking. But that’s all it was- wishful.

Maybe in another life— but damn did it sound appealing now. 

He continues to rut into you, nodding his head as if you were in on the conversation he was having with himself. He could just imagine your stomach all round he starts to pant, dark eyes peering down at you. “Yeah you’d been such a good mama, huh? You’d give me a whole litter of them, wouldn’t you?” His hips stutter, squeezing his eyes closed as he hears your garbled sobbing. Trying to get air through the rag, nostrils flaring for breath. His lips drag up your jaw, gently kissing your eyelids as you keep them squeezed shut, muffled whimpers behind the cloth. “I love you so much. Missed ’ou baby.”

His pace stutters once- twice more and he lets out a guttural groan, releasing up against the base of your cervix. He glances down again, staring unabashedly at the milky fluid coating the base of his cock and his head goes a bit fuzzy at the sight. 

The sound of thunder booms outside, rattling the window as the moment comes to an end. Pulling out, he hums as he shrugs off his jacket, ignoring your small sounds of protests as he lays down on the bed next to you.

He easily maneuvers you, his chest facing yours as he starts to slot himself back between your legs. “Settle, jus’ relax love.” He spreads the combined come around before pushing it back inside, keeping you nice and plugged up. “I’m going to remove the rag, you’re not going to scream are you?” 

You look at the stranger- the man? Monster- it was hard to tell but you shake your head regardless, trying to appease him. “Course you won’t. Because you’re my good girl- and you wouldn’t lie to me.” Bringing the fabric out of your mouth causes a whine, jaw tingling and aching as you lick your lips, trying to regain some sort of hydration. 

“Pl- Please I don’t understand I- why are you doing this— please sir-“

“Simon. Don’ want you calling me anything else.” He interrupts your panicked rambling, frowning as he leans down and capturing your lips in a kiss. Soft, gentle— longing. Even if your eyes were wide and terrified, shaking like a leaf, flinching as you look back at his mangled face. “Now sleep. Don’t want any more talking out of you tonight okay?”

When you don’t respond he nudges your chin up, his brow-bone raising expectantly. “We have a long day tomorrow, don’ want you to be tired, okay?” You catch your lip between your teeth, hiccuping and confused. Eventually nodding, letting out a little squeak when he squeezes your waist, fingers brushing over the leather of the belt. “I know it hurts love, I know- ‘ll let you out of these in the morning alright, just don’t want you to gettin’ into any trouble.” Another smile, and he leans down kissing away the tears falling. “I’m glad you’re here.”

For the first time in years, he feels genuinely content, one leg over yours as he throws an arm around your shoulders, chin notching in on the top of your head. He doesn’t sleep that night, listening to your breathing as you finally fall asleep after a bit of struggling, fingertips absentmindedly trailing up and down your spine. He hears the steady pulse of your heart- sees the rise and fall of your chest, and he smiles, leaning down and kissing your temple. 

You were here. Doesn’t matter how, but you were here. Your current state was a problem- sure- but you had all the time in the world to get reacquainted again, and you’d learn to be happy again. To love him again. 

“Until death does us part.” 

“For this is my solemn vow.”